[for Combeferre] Somewhere beyond the barricade...
Enjolras had spent the day alone, mostly thinking. It had been a difficult week for him, and the reminder of what had happened in Paris, so soon after his failed council run, had led him to a rather dark place. In Paris he had been a failed revolutionary; here he was a failed politician. Was failure all he would accomplish? He felt lost here, adrift and aimless, and it was not a feeling he was accustomed to, nothing he knew how to fix. He needed a purpose, and it would seem that purpose was not politics. But government was all he knew! What could he possibly become in this place, in what way could he serve the community he so admired, the microcosm of what he had dreamt of for France? Was he destined to be nothing more than a burden, on society, on the island...on his few friends?
He sat alone on the beach as the sun fell slowly from the sky, missing Paris, missing his friends, but most of all missing his dreams.
He sat alone on the beach as the sun fell slowly from the sky, missing Paris, missing his friends, but most of all missing his dreams.