Symphony of Lilacs

06. Witches and Fallen Angels

"Matthew!" The doctor's voice muffles behind the closed door.

Staff nurses and a few doctors are roaming about the marble white corridor. The clang of metallic instruments along with their bustling feet echoes all around.

So much white...

A sigh of relief escapes me, as I finally reach the stoned pathway at the very end of the building.

"Good afternoon, doctor!"

"Good afternoon to you too, sir." I skip my way into the grounds with even paying attention to the one greeting me.

The grounds are the same as they were from my room: leaves and snow scattered all around. A few cleaners and maids patrol about with their brooms.

Doctor Hopkins stares from my office's window, mouthing something that looks like that he is being strangled by an invisible hand.

My gaze tumbles down and the crow sits there idly-- pecking on its own feathers.

What the...

It looks at me with a tilted gaze-- giving another fit of cawing-- before spreading its wings again.

The stray grass beneath him flies off with him.

I don't know what comes over me, but I skip through the grounds and paddle towards the back gates of the hospital.

Even the maid stops her peaceful grazing at my hurried sight, but shrugs at my giving no attention to her.

The grail gates in the back are almost always open with its companion being only an old man who is too enveloped in his sleep.

My shoes clang on the stoned path way. He jolts up.

But not before I can make my exit.

The crow caws from above again.

Where do you want to take me...

It leads me through different canals and streets. Ones with wider roads and then thinner lanes. Ones with beauty dripping like the rain and then ones with stenches rotting their merry.

But the one it leads me to is a particularly steep one with the street moving up and down as if they were waves.

Women wrap themselves tighters in their scarves and cloaks, while men wear gloves with holes in the tips.

The children pay no heed even the stench and cold.

They run by-- laughing-- at being able to spiral a broken branch against a tumbling wooden wheel.

But the occasional mother draws her child nearer whenever an unfamiliar male passes by. Including me.

Tightening my coat, I trudge through the patches of rain water mixed with the underground one.

The crow is nowhere to be seen.

This looks like the East End...

Running a hand through my hand and the other hand knit into my pocket, I look around with a thumb rubbing my chin. A few people stare at me-- at the man with no holes and proper clothing against the weather.

And being blonde does not aid me in a sea of brown-haired people.

"Here is the money I could arrange. And please, don't bother me again." A familiar voice whips me around-- but then I remember to veil myself against the shadows of the low-roofed houses.

Mathilda Penrose...

She stands with her back towards me-- talking to a man.
A man whose worn coat contradicts the sack of coins in one hand and a pocket watch in another. The man hides his contents before anyone else can see.

He smiles-- a mocking one.
"Now, that I can't do, madam..."

He takes a few steps forward-- she stays still, chin up.

He falls back-- rubbing his chin.
"Once a cultured gentleman had business with me, and he... told me something."

"Do share. The rats in your stomach must be hungry," Mathilda Penrose quickly says.

The man narrows his eyes-- feigning intimidation.
"One of these days lassie, yer shall find all witches are burnt to ashes..."

"If witches have been burnt, sir, then angels have also fallen from grace."

An unexpected half-chuckle comes from me. Mathilda Penrose gives the man a quick curtsy before scurrying off into the tunnels of streets, her peacock blue cloak swishing behind her.

The man taps his hat-- and turns to another corner.

"Matthew!" A hand creeps on my shoulder-- and mine almost jerks it away before recognising the wrinkled hands.
"Doctor Hopkins..."

I turn around to the doctor with hands on his knees-- out of breath. He holds out a finger before straightening himself a few moments later.

A few people stare at him, the one with a darker skin tone than them.
When the doctor doesn't pay them attention, they go about their business.

"I... I followed you after you ran off. You were in such a hurry that you seemed not to notice me."
The doctor flails his arms around.
"What can I say, youthful passions can be such effective driving forces."

Doctor Hopkins laughs and sniffs the surroundings, grimacing.

"We best get out of here, boy." His eyes point to a few men smirking within a group of young girls.

"This seems not like the place for gentlemen."
He takes me by the elbow and makes my feet follow his own.

"Remember when I said you chase me like a mother?" I smile, but continue walking.
The doctor returns it.

Funny how only gentlemen and thieves don't have jobs.

Heyo peeps, so we got Mathilda just telling off this weird dude and Doctor Hopkins totally acting like me mum

İf anyone's's wondering, then yes: Doctor Hopkins is a black person :)

This chapter is dedicated to jasbethh, one of me great friends and astronomy bluffs ❤️

Music: Come Gentle Night-- Abel Korzeniowski

Don't forget to vote! ❤️

Anyways, have a nice week!
Love,
MS Zame