Hair in the bathroom sink. Muddy footprints on the tile. A mirror smudged and smeared. Tatiana swiped stinging eyes. Papa would've grumbled about feckless foreigners, their family tree's weakened branch, how the old country held many suitable mates.
But she'd fallen for Lucas like a body into a grave. Never mind his preoccupations with astronomy, romping monthly in the woods, eating solid food. Tatiana loved him, despite the dictates of her people's prejudice.
The bathroom's tiny window framed a harvest moon, fat and full. She grimaced at it, taking a rag to the mirror -- which reflected only an empty bathroom.
Postscript: To listen to audio of this and other stories, please download Season One of the I Saw Lightning Fall podcast here.