September 09, 2004, 13:00 PM
The Eiffel Tower, Paris, France
Blindly, Asher Jacobs ran. Somehow, she managed to find her way to the Eiffel Tower, and bought a ticket. There were no other souls, and the young ticket woman was hesitant to sell her the ticket.
"It is raining, dearie. It is not safe."
Asher assured her she would be okay, and reluctantly, the ticket woman passed the ticket from her hands to Asher's. Silently, she took the elevator to the top, and started out into the expanse that was Paris.
She had been to Paris before. On their way to Switzerland (where Asher had spent nine years of her life -- from age five to age fourteen, in a town not far from the Alps), she, her mother and father, and older brother and sister had stopped in Paris for three days. It seemed they had covered the city from end to end to end to end in those three short days. While Lauren loved the Louve the best, and Zachary loved Versailles, (which was technically outside of Paris), Asher had loved the Eiffel Tower. Before they had left, she had insisted on buying a small pewter model, which she had kept, and taken with her everywhere.
Until the crash.
In the icy sheets of rain, she could see the lights of the city, and could not tell if the wetness she felt on her cheeks was the droplets of rain, or her own tears. Or perhaps, the water was a mixture of both.
She stayed there, in the wind and the rain and the air until long past dusk, watching the city. The tower was hers; no other soul (tourist or otherwise) visited. In the rain, they were tucked away inside, somewhere dry and warm, while she stood on the Eiffel Tower, remembering her family.
She would give anything to see them again.
Finally, no longer able to bear the wind and the rain and the cold, she made her way down, and threaded her way through the streets of Paris, until she came upon an almost empty restaurant.
"Bonjour, mademoiselle? Just one this evening?"
"Oui. Non-smoking, please?"
The young hostess nodded, and led Asher to a corner table, lighted only by candlelight. Asher nodded dimly, and ordered coffee. She had always despised coffee, but needed something to warm her chilled bones.
And, she hoped the bitter liquid would ease her pain.
Blindly, Asher Jacobs ran. Somehow, she managed to find her way to the Eiffel Tower, and bought a ticket. There were no other souls, and the young ticket woman was hesitant to sell her the ticket.
"It is raining, dearie. It is not safe."
Asher assured her she would be okay, and reluctantly, the ticket woman passed the ticket from her hands to Asher's. Silently, she took the elevator to the top, and started out into the expanse that was Paris.
She had been to Paris before. On their way to Switzerland (where Asher had spent nine years of her life -- from age five to age fourteen, in a town not far from the Alps), she, her mother and father, and older brother and sister had stopped in Paris for three days. It seemed they had covered the city from end to end to end to end in those three short days. While Lauren loved the Louve the best, and Zachary loved Versailles, (which was technically outside of Paris), Asher had loved the Eiffel Tower. Before they had left, she had insisted on buying a small pewter model, which she had kept, and taken with her everywhere.
Until the crash.
In the icy sheets of rain, she could see the lights of the city, and could not tell if the wetness she felt on her cheeks was the droplets of rain, or her own tears. Or perhaps, the water was a mixture of both.
She stayed there, in the wind and the rain and the air until long past dusk, watching the city. The tower was hers; no other soul (tourist or otherwise) visited. In the rain, they were tucked away inside, somewhere dry and warm, while she stood on the Eiffel Tower, remembering her family.
She would give anything to see them again.
Finally, no longer able to bear the wind and the rain and the cold, she made her way down, and threaded her way through the streets of Paris, until she came upon an almost empty restaurant.
"Bonjour, mademoiselle? Just one this evening?"
"Oui. Non-smoking, please?"
The young hostess nodded, and led Asher to a corner table, lighted only by candlelight. Asher nodded dimly, and ordered coffee. She had always despised coffee, but needed something to warm her chilled bones.
And, she hoped the bitter liquid would ease her pain.