The Devil Likes Lemon Cupcakes

The Devil And Travel Jumping

                               »He admired my melancholy madness

                                and said it was graceful and beautiful.

                                    But it was neither of those things.

                                  I was a hurricane at the centre of a

                                                      collapsing;

                                                        burning;

                                                        building;

                           and I wasn't someone to be admired at all.«

                                                       Unknown

I walked into the frozen night. Before that night, I was always bothered by cold; I would complain the moment I stepped into a cold morning or a freezing evening. Cold hurt. It hurt my cheekbones, the sharp teeth of frost bit into my skeleton, creating winter pain.

But for some reason, I did not feel that pain that night. I sensed the cold around me, ghosting across my skin, yet I wasn't freezing. I was...nothing.

I was numb.

I was alone.

I was the monster eyes that stare at you from the shadows.

Barefoot, I walked into the forest of tall trees. Twigs cracked beneath my step, penetrating the bitter soil that stuck to the bottom of my feet. With childish intensity I placed my hands onto rough bark of the trees, touching every scar that was carved into them, every year that left a memory in a wrinkle. It was almost as if I'd woken senses in myself that I didn't know existed.

I was told that demons do not feel. That demonic does not posses human senses; taste, touch, smell... But I was able to fill my lungs with crisp air, to take in the sour scent of spruce trees, and earthiness of the dirt. I even felt the evening moist. Perhaps, it had something to do with the human side of me.

For some reason, I thought of Paris; by closing my eyes I imagined the street artists performing late into the twilight, the sweet smell of melted chocolate on pancakes...

I opened my eyes and saw Montmartre. Only this time, it wasn't in my head.

Confused, I walked towards the street lamp and grabbed its metal neck. It was real. I had no idea how I ended up here.

Lucifer, of course could make travel jumps, but me...how...

My eyes closed again, and I thought of that cold forest. The thought of crisp dirt sticking to my feet, the twigs breaking apart ran through my mind...And as I turned my gaze from the darkness once again, I found myself back in the forest.

I laughed with amusement, my voice echoing across the hollow woods, and closed my eyes once again, thinking of Montmartre.

Travel jumping sure was fun when you weren't unconscious.

On the streets of Montmartre a lot of people just passed me by, which didn't even bothered me at first. I was barefoot, but no one seemed to care. A man with scruffy beard, its hair were all over the place, diverted in all directions, and a brown coat that reached his knees was heading towards me.