Paris, France 1873
Narrators P.O.V
Erik, now 26, sat at his bench trying to compose but nothing worked. He had not been inspired ever since Christine left him for the Vicomte De Chagny. No matter how hard Erik tried he could not forget about the pain. He slowly stood and walked over to the bookshelf grabbing one at random he sat by the fire and begun to read what he thought a book of poems.
To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
Suddenly a bright light surrounded him and then slowly faded out leaving him lying on the ground next to his chair in a world of pleasant dreams.