Painting by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
Sponsored by [Magpie Tales]
Quasimodo’s Strange Feelings
Quasimodo was fairly certain that the absinthe he had consumed over the course of the evening was not the sole contributor to his current state of mind. Granted, it had been a considerable amount, but he could still clearly see that Esmeralda was having an intoxicating effect upon everyone watching her tripping the light fantastic in the middle of the dance floor.
On the other hand, he knew that absinthe is known to have helped drive many a mind mad, and he was beginning to wonder if this was what was happening to him. For he had a strange feeling that he and Esmeralda would someday become close friends—even being quite dear to each other.
Oh no, not as lovers. For he had not drank that much, but the thought of such a lovely lady holding him close to her heart in her mind made his own heart skip a beat or two, nonetheless.
“How can this be?” Oh my, he had almost asked that question out loud, which would have been disastrous. For it appeared that no one at the party knew he was there watching from the shadows, and he certainly did not want to be tossed out in the street like the last time he was caught where he was unwelcome.
Yes, Quasimodo knew that his disfigurement made him an unwelcome sight around most places. For it was said that God would not do something like that to a good person. He hoped that those who would say such a thing were wrong, and he had another strange feeling that they were.
Quasimodo could not help but let out a soft chuckle as a thought about these strange feelings surely leading to either his destruction or salvation negotiated its way through the absinthe vapors behind his eyes. Then he noticed an old man sitting on a stool and scowling in his direction, and he took it as his cue to slip away while he could. Esmeralda was still dancing the night away, and his heart was still skipping beats.
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