Love, Fortunes And Other Disasters

Prologue; The Bargain

Love stopped at the town of Grimbaud, weary and limping upon a twisted ankle. "I've been trying to help people,"
she said, struggling out of her dirty sneakers, "and no one is listening to me."
A stray cat cocked its head, her only audience. She sat on the edge of the canal. Her right ankle was pink and swollen, but the pain eased as soon as she dipped her feet into the cool water. Boats bobbed on the canal, and windows flashed glimpses of families preparing for dinner. Love came in many forms, but that day, she was a whiny thirteen year old, with a sunburn on her nose. Every year, love backpacked through the entire world to take inventory. She rode on the backs of motorcycles, and slept on benches. But not this year. This year the spreadsheet tucked inside her backpack proclaimed that there where too many broken hearts in this world.
"They make themselves miserable." Love whispered, glaring at her reflection. "I wish I could tell them how to love."
At that moment, a women wearing a tattered wedding dress walked up the street. A veil covered her face. Her clasped hands loosened once she saw Love. "You weren't at my wedding," the women said ruefully.
Love consulted her spreadsheet and shrugged. "Sorry, Zita. I was late for all my appointments today because of this  useless ankle."
"Is that so?" Zita smoothed her lace trimmed bodice.
"Looks like you have a bigger problem then that."
"I was never good at accounting."
"And?"
"People are ignoring there instincts," Love pressed her fist to her heart. "If they knew what their romantic features held, they wouldn't suffer so much."
Zita considers this. "What if you just talk to them like you're dong now with me?"
"Brides can see me on their wedding day. You won't recognize me tomorrow." Love sighed. "Usually, no one sees me."
"Why don't you use that to your advantage?" Her veil stirred. "Use me as you megaphone. Use Grimbaud as your testing  ground."
Love stared at her reflection in the water. The surface wavered and she thought she could see the universe of wrinkles on her face. She was tired of being subtle, of having people guessing wrong. "Let's talk."