By Elena Mauli Shapiro
American educational Trevor Stratton discovers a field filled with artifacts from global warfare I as he settles into his new place of work in Paris. the images, letters, and gadgets within the field relate to the lifetime of Louise Brunet, a feisty, fascinating Frenchwoman who lived via either global Wars.
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Extra resources for 13, Rue Thérèse
She cannot wait to cut up her wedding dress to make baptismal robes for the plump pink baby boy she will push forth from herself, in blood and pain and happiness. He looks at his daughter’s sweet oval face, at the young hope in her dark eyes, and is reminded of his wife. Louise is the only thing he has left. HE GETS A GREAT price on fifty-seven eight-millimeter pearls from one of his suppliers. Their color is beautiful: a uniform cream that can flatter any complexion. They are also almost perfectly round.
There is something lascivious in the full curve of his tremulous lip. This makes sense: he is a man who talks for a living. The spoken word is where he exists most. Since his youth, his smile has been slightly crooked. As the years have passed, the crookedness has increased. It gives his face something like character. His eyes are light and blank. His hair is dark and receding. He has a florid complexion: the slightest surge of blood is an explosion of red on his cheeks and neck, down into his shirt collar.
That’s impossible: I am holding my rosary,” she insisted, as if his acknowledgment of this fact would immediately make him well again. He shrugged. “I know it’s impossible, but it is so. ” Louise flinched as a start of electricity snapped in the pit of her chest when she heard these words, and as the tremor zinged from her solar plexus and down her arms and into her startled hands, she saw a flash of something white above the chair—like the crisp white cotton of the shirt on the man who clearly was not there.
13, Rue Thérèse by Elena Mauli Shapiro