Dead Men (Marie and Lotte Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

more ‘niceness’. There was something a little hippie about her even though she had short hair and was somewhat shy and reticent.
    The last of the cups had been sitting on the counter all day with a little coffee in it and the stain was particularly stubborn. She put a little detergent and hot water in it, and stood for a moment with her hands on the sink and stared into space, while she imagined a sunlit spot in a world where she could breathe freely. Her secret world where she would have burned her bra and danced around a fire with feathers in her hair and myriads of beautiful pearls on her clothes, while the drums beat in rhythm with the voices. People would sit around, telling tales of joy and excitement, like larks singing high on a bright blue summer sky. They’d smile at each other, everything was safe; and in the morning the air was filled with a scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Everyone was nice to each other, listened attentively, washed their coffee cups when they were done, and hugged each other tenderly at every opportunity.
    Lotte sighed. So wonderful it would be to actually live in a world like that, not just in her imagination. She was aware of the fact that she often succumbed to social standards and unwritten rules that dictate what you can get away with. Extreme love and extreme anger were totally unimaginable emotions. There were more of those restrictions in her life than she cared for, but she felt that she could not change that. What would people think? She couldn’t possibly openly dare to act like a hippie, and the thought frightened her so much that she went to the other extreme, and thus became a bit boring to look at in her usual gray, beige and black outfits.
    On a brave day she might use a scarf or a necklace to spray a little color on herself, but they were rare occasions. She would rather be invisible than be judged and she almost felt like a rebel when she wore a small pink scarf around her neck, but, if she had dared, she would have loved to surround herself with many more colors. So, she sometimes felt a little boring in the eyes of the outside world. She thought she looked like someone whose life was slipping away. Like sand running through fingers on the palm-shaded beach she’d never go to; because she had to spend her money on him.
    Lotte was now thirty-five and felt herself standing on the brink of middle age. However, she didn’t panic when something didn’t go quite right like she did when she was twenty-five. She could be quite a relaxed and deliberate, thoughtful person. She thought that in the outside world she was possibly perceived as bland and totally insignificant. And that felt just fine, safe and protected.
    But inside herself when she could put her low self-esteem to one side there was a wealth of fantasies to be found. She could make up stories and find adventure and create strange worlds. An ability which she mostly used when she was with the children in the family. And also, Lotte knew, there was another secret side to her that yearned for excitement and adventure - perhaps even danger.
    She imagined she was in Venice by all the wide canals. She saw herself in tight black clothes and light sneakers, a focused expression on her face, running around a corner from pursuers before jumping into a boat, starting the engine, letting go of the mooring and hearing the owner yell furiously in Italian. He’d try to get to the boat before she shot away from the dock but he didn’t make it, and the boat sped out into the water with a roar from the engine, just as the pursuers turned the corner, guns in hand, ready to shoot and stop her. She had to live out that fantasy in her next life, one where she was not washing coffee cups on a daily basis.
    During the time they had been together his finances had gone downhill—if they had ever been good that is—and she seriously doubted it. He had his own coaching business that was not doing well, and it didn’t take a rocket