Snow is falling while Madeleine walks down a cobble-stoned street. Strangers pass her by, rushing home. Madeleine takes her time. She has a hat on, newly bought. She really likes it. It fits her coat, red with black buttons, covering her warmly from her neck to her knees. Her boots are dusted with powdery white, the snow is cascading down past the windows and walls, filling the curb, the sills, the street. 
Madeleine catches a glimpse of herself in a shop window. The red of her coat is shockingly bright, like Red Riding Hood walking through the forest. All she needs is a basket with pastries, but her grandmére lives in Lyon.
*
Sophie likes to look out of windows when it snows, just like now, her chin in her hand, and a book lying open next to her. She’s waiting for the water to boil for a cup of tea. The snow is falling gently from a heavy sky, dark and filled with winter storms. Down below a young woman walks by in a bright red coat. Sophie wonders where she got it from. The kettle clicks, the water’s done. Sophie moves away from the window, happy that winter has finally come.
*
Luc is tall and dark, with a lightning smile. He likes wearing dark sweaters over light shirts. He has to bend down to open doors, his legs are long like a runner’s. Madeleine likes to throw herself into his arms. He chuckles then. They meet at a café they both like, Madeleine orders a citrón, Luc a coffee. He asks her how her day was, she smiles and asks if he likes her hat. Luc always thought women were crazy about shoes, but Madeleine is always buying hats. He asks again, ‘How was your day?’ and Madeleine sighs without answering. Luc frowns, ‘That bad?’ Madeleine shrugs and looks out the window, the snow is falling thickly now, covering cars and lamps. Luc reaches out and holds Madeleine’s hand, she turns and tries to smile. He can see the frustration in her eyes that she won’t allow to spread. He wishes he could do something, help somehow, but Madeleine insists on finishing the internship.
She will not be cowed. So he says, ‘It’s just three more weeks.’ Madeleine nods, sadly. Luc can see she is trying not to cry.
‘Madeleine, you really don’t have to do this. There are other places -‘
‘No. I won’t let them win. And Margarite told me twice I do my job well.’
‘And you do do it well.’
‘Yes. I know. I know I get things done. They know that and can’t stand it -‘
Madeleine takes a deep breath and exhales. The waiter comes with the citrón and the coffee. They drink in silence, Luc watching Madeleine. He would like to tell her about his promotion, the confirmation came in today. He would like to tell her about the holiday they could take next year. He would like to say something to make her smile again, but Madeleine is watching the snow again and looks at peace. Luc doesn’t want to disturb that just yet.
*
It’s past seven, dark as night, and Sophie is waiting. Waiting for Etienne, Etienne who is about to come in a taxi, all wrapped in a coat. He already sent her text, the flight was ok, de Gaulle was hell, he couldn’t wait to see her again. Sophie spent the last hour making dinner. The table is set, the candals lit, the wine decanted, the good one from the Périgord. It’s still snowing outside, so Sophie fought with the wood in the fireplace until it accepted the fire. Finally, the taxi arrives, stopping busily in the street. Sophie rushes to the window and sees Etienne step out. The driver pops the boot, and Etienne takes out a suitcase and his shoulder bag heavy with his notebook and papers. He taps the roof of the cab twice, nods to the driver and the cab is gone. Sophie watches Etienne walk towards the house, patting down his front. She knows he’s searching for his keys. She leans closer to the window, and waves. Etienne looks up, startled. Sophie smiles and waves again. Etienne smiles back, relieved. He’s been gone for two weeks.
*
Luc wraps an arm around Madeleine’s shoulders when they leave the house. He has a long coat on and looks like the businessman he is, but Madeleine likes to think of him as a poet. When he’s in the shower, he likes to sing in a low baritone, songs she usually only hears on the radio. When they cross streets, Luc stretches out a hand as if he’s about to lose Madeleine in a crowd. Madeleine is scared of cars. She was hit by one once when she was a child, three weeks with deep bruises. Luckily no more. She sometimes hears the screeching tires. She always hesitates at the curb. Luc then steps out into the street, turns around and stretches out a hand. 
Madeleine only runs to him because she is afraid he will stand too long and be hit, drivers are crazy in this city. She would rather be hit with him than be left in this cold world, alone.
*
Sophie closes her eyes when Etienne kisses her hello. They’re standing in the narrow hallway, Etienne still in his snow-covered coat, suitcase and shoulder bag on the floor. Sophie doesn’t feel the chill from the open door. She feels warm, so warm, winter could be a myth told by someone unknown. They part, Etienne closes the door, smells the air and smiles, ‘Is that your gratin?’ Sophie nods, yes, she thought he might want something warm. She still has to make the medallions. Etienne kisses her again and says he’ll take a shower first. While he’s in the bathroom, Sophie puts the pan on the stove, happy to hear the shower run. Her heart glows at the memory of Etienne’s relief to be home. It makes her smile, their love is yet so young. She wishes to keep it this young, innocent in its joy, just happy to be. She wishes it would not grow to an obstinate little thing, a disillusioned adult after years as a pouty teen. She does not want their love to grow old. She wants it to stay like this, to always know the simple joy of being together again after being separated for so many days, they became weeks.
*
Luc is watching Madeleine drink tea. She doesn’t like coffee. She doesn’t like colourless nails either. They always have to be painted. Maybe it has to do with her work, she always wakes up an hour early and prepares herself meticulously before she leaves. He doesn’t like the transformation. The Madeleine who leaves the house in the morning is not the Madeleine he knows. The one in the morning is curt and concentrated, saying little to nothing at all. The Madeleine he knows laughs a lot. She doesn’t mind being a little disorganised and she takes her time. Morning Madeleine has everything planned out, and leaves the house at seven thirty sharp. Sometimes Luc tries to slow her down with breakfast, tea, brioche, an omelette, but Morning Madeleine has no time for that and rushes out at 7:30, terrified she might be a nanosecond late. Luc can’t wait until she’s finished with that internship. Then he’ll take her somewhere nice, like Florence. They’ve never been to Florence. He already booked the tickets and a nice hotel. 
He wants them to have the perfect weekend, far away from everything, especially the snow. Luc knows winter is inevitable in this city, but he could really live without the cold.
*
Sophie turns on her front and looks out the window. Etienne is quiet next to her, pleasantly tired. His hand on her back is warm, and she enjoys how he strokes her skin. After a while he asks what’s wrong and Sophie shakes her head smiling,
‘Nothing.’
‘What are you looking at?’
‘The snow.’
He glances over his shoulder and sighs,
‘It’s still hasn’t stopped?’
‘Why would you want it to stop?’
‘It clogged up all the runways. We couldn’t land for half an hour.’
Sophie looks at the snowflakes trickling down from the sky. They look so harmless, tiny puffs of white. Tiny ballerinas running to the stage, gathering on the sill. She sees a cool blue light bloom next to her and turns. Etienne is scrolling through something on his phone.
‘Your boss?’
‘No. It won’t stop till Tuesday.’
‘What won’t stop?’
‘The snow. The streets are going to be a mess.’
‘You checked?’
‘Yeah,’ Etienne says as if that was perfectly normal, now, in this moment, with the tiny ballerinas fluttering to their stage, both of them lying next to each other under the sheets after such a wonderful time naked together. Sometimes Etienne is far too pragmatic for Sophie’s taste. But then he puts away his phone, turns to her, kisses her shoulder and says,
‘You’ll have to tell me what you want for Christmas.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t want to make a mess of it again,’ and Sophie can’t help it, she laughs a little.
It was this silly game of theirs, of who could give the other the more ingenious present, Christmas, birthdays, even Easter. It didn’t have to be expensive, just something that was truly theirs, and for that Sophie was simply grateful.
*
It’s Saturday evening and Luc and Madeleine are invited at friends for dinner. They take their time to prepare themselves, talking about the friends they are going to meet, Sophie and Etienne, and everyone else who are part of their circle. It will be a long evening, but that is good. Sophie, who trained to be a chef before managing that excellent little brasserie, Sophie will have made something wonderful, and Etienne will have many stories to tell again. The company he works for sends him everywhere to inspect the respective teams, and something strange always happens once he’s there. 
Madeleine often wonders how it is to work with people who know they have to make you like them. She often wishes Etienne would come and inspect everyone at her internship, but this is not the time to think of that. They’re dressed and ready to go, and walk down the stairs. Outside, Luc opens his umbrella, it is large enough for two. Snow falls on the black, a soft susurrus filling the dark street. Madeleine smiles when she sees the snow, joins Luc under the umbrella. They talk quietly to each other, anticipating a pleasant evening as they walk quickly through the snow, holding hands happily in the cold.
© 2014 threegoodwords
Since her acceptance to the Loge she rarely experienced something like that with a resident. They were usually calm, giving her gratification with calm persistence, stroking her body as was appropriate and kissing her when it was right, following her words precisely. She had had a few young ones who could be unnecessarily rough or uncoordinated, or spilled too soon, but after a while she knew which residents suited her tastes best, and ever since she joined Mistress Koun’s list her times at the House were always very satisfying.
To her surprise, he was at the farthest part of the wide room, far away from the recliners, where the first were already undressing. He was looking at a watercolour, a rare piece Haen Ule had apparently acquired in the South Plains, if the plaque next to the painting told the truth. It was a landscape of some kind or other, water and hills and a light. It was pleasant, but Ji’an had never had an eye for these things. She was surprised to see the resident looking at it with interest. It wasn’t something one expected from a resident.
It felt like insubordination. Maybe she should file a complaint about what happened on the recliner. She had let him have his way without a reprimand, now he probably thought it would always be like this. And he had dared to look at her like that. Ji’an turned and walked back to the main room. He followed her closely which was a relief. She had half feared he would stay at the watercolour, which would have forced her to an argument, or worse, a raised voice, and that would have been uncommonly embarrassing. No wonder breaking House Rules was so highly fined. If you let them get away with it, they obviously thought they could do whatever they liked. Well, it wouldn’t happen again.
Just letting them undress and going through the prescribed motions was not very exciting, so she acquired her own way. First she walked up to the resident and looked at his face. It was good-looking, all residents were nice to look at, though this one had something really nice about him that some sometimes had. Ji’an looked a little longer, enjoying the well-made face. He didn’t look at her, but straight ahead to the view of the City, his eyes violet in the red sunlight. He was obviously waiting for the usual inspection and she really shouldn’t stall.
The fee was high since her booking was for the following day, which was a very short notice. Ji’an felt she could only do it because she was a long-time client of the House. She would never have booked but for the dinner she had to attend the following evening. One of her colleagues had to go to the Upper Falls on an emergency and now Ji’an had to go in his place. It was a formal dinner, so one was to bring one’s resident, which in Ji’an’s case meant she had to request Mistress Koun’s services, since she had no permanent residency yet.
three good words 