Up until the moment Luke would meet Jeanine, he was trying to acclimate himself to a vacation definition of normal; marrying his routine with the restrictions of visiting a foreign country. He’d woken around his usual time of 5AM to his phone alarm for his morning run. He had sat at the foot of the bed of his temporary room to put on his sneakers. When he bent forward and his auburn hair brushed the floor, he again turned over the idea of getting his hair cut short. Then, normal was interrupted.

A folded piece of paper that had been slipped beneath his door caught his eye. Upon reading, it re-enforced the reality of being on a vacation in France with his small group of friends. “Luke” was scrawled in flourishes both classically cursive and gothic. He knew the note was from Angel, one of the other members of his vacationing group and prescient. This note contained a brief paragraph explaining she’d been nosy and “read his cards” while he’d been asleep. And then she’d written in rather large, bold, sweeping letters, “Your romance is trouble for all of us!” Then, she printed in capital letters, “GO NOWHERE ALONE!”

Considering the six of them, himself included, had had quite a bender the night before, he had two responses to her command. Angel was typically high-handed and bossy when drinking, he mumbled, “When could she have had time to do a reading?” The other response: he asked the door as he reached it, “Aren’t you not supposed to scry while so drunk you can’t talk?”

He garnered few glances his 20 minute morning run through the quaint town of Auvers-sur-Oise. He’d noted quite a few of the local population in this neighborhood were alert and active this early on his way to the Church up on the Hill. He also noted that he was much bulkier than most of the men. While he’d never weight lifted, his body type and the landscaping and stonework, which was physically demanding, had left him looking hefty in comparison to the locals. It made him a little self-conscious. He stared a moment at the signs posted in front of Notre Dam and another in the field before returning to his hotel. By the time he stepped into the shower for the day, he decided that Angel’s warning was an alcohol-induced misfire.

Superstition should always be challenged.

Deducing that his group of friends wouldn’t be up for hours, he could circumvent losing the vote in choosing sightseeing destinations by visiting the ones on his list while they slept. He took the train to Paris. It would take him an hour and then some to get to the northern side of the city and then to the top of the Eiffel Tower. He suspected that he should be alone to truly savor the experience of climbing to the top.

Except, he was limited to the 2nd floor of the tower to catch the wind. There was a barrier enclosing tourists at the top. However, he found he could block out the crowd other visitors and barrier. He froze to an utter stillness in order to absorb the scene and energy of the city laid out before him. It was a moment cherished in the sky by an earthworker. He felt the tendrils of life lacing through the city’s streets and buildings from that point.

He’d marvel at the layout of the city when he went up again with his friends. It would be an ideal place to perform a small Ritual of Appreciation with his talented friends and fellow Grove members. Oddly, of their group of six, each of the four directions and elements, north and earth, east and air, south and fire, and west and water, could be safely represented and controlled, which in turn would make a satisfying ceremony.

He didn’t know, he would not return to go up to the top of the Tower with his friends. He would, instead, meet a pretty girl and say, “Hi.”