The Villain

The pale malefactor didn't have anyone to dine with. He wanted to add another line but smirked at it with a rapid survey of the premises that included a few tables, a liveried waiter and a dilemma. Pardons have always upset his stomach, if it wasn't for the rich swell of harmony that entered his heart each time his character was exercised at the very end. He chose to fold it for the time being, catching a glimpse of his daughter in his mind's eye. She once asked him if chimeras were short-lived or could exist for many years. He answered that they were accidents, and accidents weren't built to last. Her fingers evoked a melody which she refused to reveal. Several people vouched for how promising she was and yet she left in a moment of wakeful recognition of the world's intent that she couldn't share with him or her mother, that belongs to the glassy wonder in the eyes of children.