I put this little preview to Love Square(d), my next novel, a little while back. I did it in hopes of getting some feedback or thoughts. That didnt happen so I posted it to ff.net and adapted it to Rizzoli & Isles. Just thought I’d put my adaptation here for anyone who may be interested.

Read, enjoy, comment.

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Silence. It was virtue as vital to Jane as air or water. Never an only child, she often welcomed the presence of others. People helped keep the boredom and loneliness away in the past, now they helped keep the memories and loneliness at bay.

There were times though, when she depleted her tranquility and became overwhelmed by the rigors of every day life. That deficiency forced her into seclusion. When she could handle it no more, she’d shutter herself away, undergo a brief hibernation.

Now in the near silence of her apartment she felt trapped, confined, even as she felt the necessity of this ritual. This was her ablution, the only way to cleanse herself so she could begin again. It was in these moments that her mind would race, tracking through memories long stored away in nothing more than a diagnostic of her emotional capacity.

Salvation was on the other side of the door in the form of someone, anyone, but it was too soon. She needed the silence as much as she dreaded the moment it would demonstrate its necessity.

A knock soft and rhythmic sounded like a pinprick of light in the darkest of tunnels. It was too soon; the structure was yet to be fortified. The slightest movement could send it all crashing down around her, burring her deeper, making her begin again.

Again it sounded and Jane recognized it’s cadence, longed to open the door. The brass knob gleamed brightly in the semi-darkness of her apartment. It shined brighter than she could ever remember and she took it as the sign people prayed for in dark hours such as this.

Jane struck out, risked the structural integrity of the house of cards that was her sanity to open the door.

Even in the time passed Maura stood patiently waiting. Her eyes found Jane’s, the greeting dying on her lips.

She wanted to turn way. Maura’s gaze was knowing and struck a cord of fear in her that was sure to send her flying into pieces. Her eyes searched unseeing looking for a route of escape. Her foundation was shaking violently and she couldn’t bear to let Maura see the wreckage. Instead she turned inward searching for comfort only to realize her reserve of inner peace had been tapped and this lack is what started this exercise that left her stripped and shaking for all to see.

A confident hand touched her softly on the arm drawing Jane’s attention back to the present, away from the past filled with doctors visits, life insurance policies, funeral arrangements and grief that clung to every surface like heavy soot from a four alarm blaze.

Maura’s attention left Jane only when they both recognized the sound of Frankie clamoring up the stairs. She led them inside closing the door and thus locking out the danger. She didn’t utter a word, only slid out of her shoes and onto Jane’s couch.

Her face was so endearingly understanding and expectant that Jane could have screamed in pure joy when she opened her arms in welcome.

“Janie, you there?”

The world sent Jane racing into Maura’s arms, her head firmly cradled in her lap.

It wouldn’t be until much later that Jane knew Maura too required silence to survive. All she knew now was that under the watchful eye and comforting embrace of another, the darkness of silence in pursuit of tranquility was not so bad.

When the sun woke Jane the next morning she was relieved to feel the pall lifted like the veil of a new bride. The first words she would utter that day would be the words Maura scrawled neatly on the back of an envelope.

            somewhere I have never traveled, gladly beyond

           any experience, your eyes have their silence:

           in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,

           or which I cannot touch because they are too near

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