With every fiber of his being
A/N: I don't know where this sprung from.... but I was quite possibly inspired by Addicted to Ewan's wonderful fiction, "Something Else". I am sorry if this one seems very much like hers.
Disclaimer: I own not!
The London Sun July 14th 1910
Dear readers. As I am sure you know in the early hours of July 7th 1910 the world said a tearful goodbye to renowned author Christian James. I could tell you all, once again the terrible account of his death, but I choose instead, to unfold onto you, a much happier tale. The tale of a charming young man whose beautiful stories and poems won our hearts countless times, and left little tear glistening in our eyes.
When he left our English shores for Paris, to pursue his dreams of joining in the bohemian revolution, he was young, naïve, and starry- eyed. When he returned he was a different man. It is hard to say in what ways he was different dear readers, but he was different.
What had changed him so? For those of us who have read his first and most famous book "Moulin Rouge", we know that it was the work of his much loved soul mate's tragic death.
Many who knew him, said that once he lost her he gave up completely on his worshipped ideals of truth, beauty, freedom, and love. I however must disagree. He still oh so whole-heartedly believed in them, but not with that beautiful naiveté he once did. He had the power to look truth in the eyes and to except it, no matter what an undesirable truth it may be, saw beauty in the simple things in life that many of us, in our busy schedules oh so often carelessly over look, worshipped the moments of freedom that he spent in his garden, creating new works of literature for the world to marvel at, and above all, dear friends, he loved. He loved her with every fiber of his being, and carried on, for he knew she would have wanted him to.
Even though he was unjustly taken from us at a young age, he left us something that will never die; a beautiful story, of love living forever. And even though he is no longer with us, we shall never forget the beautiful boy, who accepted truth, saw beauty, enjoyed his freedom, and loved with every fiber of his being.
Goodbye Christian James, you will be remembered until the end of time.
The editor.
A/N: Incase I caused confusion with my terrible writing, I was writing that as if I where an editor of a London newspaper. I hope you enjoyed this story, but if you did not, please don't tell me that you want me to "die a horrible death", just don't finish reading it if you hate it!
A/N: I don't know where this sprung from.... but I was quite possibly inspired by Addicted to Ewan's wonderful fiction, "Something Else". I am sorry if this one seems very much like hers.
Disclaimer: I own not!
The London Sun July 14th 1910
Dear readers. As I am sure you know in the early hours of July 7th 1910 the world said a tearful goodbye to renowned author Christian James. I could tell you all, once again the terrible account of his death, but I choose instead, to unfold onto you, a much happier tale. The tale of a charming young man whose beautiful stories and poems won our hearts countless times, and left little tear glistening in our eyes.
When he left our English shores for Paris, to pursue his dreams of joining in the bohemian revolution, he was young, naïve, and starry- eyed. When he returned he was a different man. It is hard to say in what ways he was different dear readers, but he was different.
What had changed him so? For those of us who have read his first and most famous book "Moulin Rouge", we know that it was the work of his much loved soul mate's tragic death.
Many who knew him, said that once he lost her he gave up completely on his worshipped ideals of truth, beauty, freedom, and love. I however must disagree. He still oh so whole-heartedly believed in them, but not with that beautiful naiveté he once did. He had the power to look truth in the eyes and to except it, no matter what an undesirable truth it may be, saw beauty in the simple things in life that many of us, in our busy schedules oh so often carelessly over look, worshipped the moments of freedom that he spent in his garden, creating new works of literature for the world to marvel at, and above all, dear friends, he loved. He loved her with every fiber of his being, and carried on, for he knew she would have wanted him to.
Even though he was unjustly taken from us at a young age, he left us something that will never die; a beautiful story, of love living forever. And even though he is no longer with us, we shall never forget the beautiful boy, who accepted truth, saw beauty, enjoyed his freedom, and loved with every fiber of his being.
Goodbye Christian James, you will be remembered until the end of time.
The editor.
A/N: Incase I caused confusion with my terrible writing, I was writing that as if I where an editor of a London newspaper. I hope you enjoyed this story, but if you did not, please don't tell me that you want me to "die a horrible death", just don't finish reading it if you hate it!