Twas the smallest of kisses…

Love is out there everyday of the year, in its many different forms and shades of dark and light. With it being February, a notoriously romantic month, I have searched my private library, and found something old, favorited, and exemplary to share with you, fishy friends. It comes to you from the singular Gaston Leroux and a certain masked man named Erik who has never received kindness except from one young woman who has allowed him to kiss her forehead, and not run away. Hush now while I extinguish all lights and blow out all candles, save one, for you to read by. Of course, you may know him simply as,┬áThe Phantom…

phantom

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And Erik fell into a chair, choking for breath:

“Ah, I am not going to die yet… presently I shall… but let me cry! … Listen, daroga… listen to this. While I was at her feet… I heard her…
Read the Rest…