FrenchRevolutionFans

It was mind-numbing. He had come so far so quickly, and now it would all be for nothing. Come morning, he -- Louis Antoine Léon de Saint-Just, l'Archange de la Révoltuion -- would know God. He watched silently as the others took their last stand; they would not die by the hands of their enemies. They would rather expedite their own demises than give their opponents the satisfaction. Robespierre and Le Bas were wrestling on one side of their makeshift cell when there was a sudden, loud sound -- a gunshot. Maximilien fell to the floor, clutching at his shattered jaw, helpless to prevent Le Bas raising the gun a second, final time.

"France shall surely die if virtue and terror are not obtained and Maximilien Robespierre is lighting our path toward absolute revolution,"- Louis Antoine stood at the stage in front of the people. I watched him from my seat at the stage's edge, glancing at the audience ever so often. The words were all the same, each one had been uttered one thousand times before. My chest  swelled with the sound of the phrases I watched being put together. My lips mouthed each word discretely as I guessed which detail would be placed where in his speech. I knew Louis too well to whisper any line incorrectly. He stood tall at the platform in his v

It was a warm summer day. One that makes you itch with tension if you are not outside enjoying it. A breeze, soft as silk, was rustling the leaves. Lazy clouds floated low in the sky. Sitting under a large oak Saint-Just admired the fine day. A petty thing to think of but one that couldn't be helped. A bowl of cherries sat next to him. Dark purple almost black orbs in a glass bowl. Pits with bits of flesh still clinging to them littered the grass near by. Saint-Just's tongue darted out, licking the red smear from his lower lip. Another breeze washed over him. Loosening his cravat he leaned against the tree, content for the moment to survey