Ｒｅｔｒｏｕｖａｉｌｌｅｓ

。⓪❺

"Gabrielle... Gabrielle..." He proceeds to muse over the name repeatedly. He knows it. Where from is what he can't quite pin down.

Purchasing the book Rogers takes his leave of the loud hustle and over the Williamsburg bridge he goes. His engrossing thoughts are put on pause as he switches gears and recalls all the times he has walked the suspension. Back when he was the little guy – when he was smaller.

Upon reaching Central Park, his eyes narrow to scope out the favoured bench beneath the tree, secluded from the conceited celebrities and rambunctious children that dot the open plot.

As if a present day teen, he spreads himself out on his back, one forearm behind his head, taking up the entirety of the lengthened seat with his tactful built. Indeed the grass would prove much more comfortable but for a soldier the soil is much too soft.

Ignoring the many distractions of his surroundings he steps into the wistful picture of black and white by Betty Smith. He is unaware that he is the culprit for the barrage of paparazzi that begins to flood his vicinity – invading the serenity of the green, recreational area.

He pays them no mind for they deserve none. He like most understands that the turf they all stand on is free country. And so he allows them their snapshots (that could quite possibly earn them a pretty penny) without opposition.

How he does miss the private propriety of his era.

Steve breezes through the first 43 pages with ease. Such spans the extent of a hefty hour or so. He remembers reading the tale of 'Francie' Nolan when she was first introduced to the world in 1943 as a protagonist that epitomised the equilibrium of poverty with pragmatism.

He is blissfully wandering the universe of words the moment the blank space of his Gabrielle equation is filled. It strikes him like a train, knocking him straight off the tracks of leisure.

"Le fille."* he whispers.

Quickly he rises and with purpose takes off in the direction from whence he came, intent on making a visit at the place he received a bashing at so long ago.

The casual return back from Bucky's. The sudden but brief term of unconsciousness. The demure dame of twenty who'd sewn him up and refused to say goodbye, who in return he spared kind encouragement along with better knowledge of the English language.

He promised her a 'till next time' but like his 'date' such was a pledge fate never allowed him to fulfil.

She was such a sweet being and though he knew little of her due to the limited time they shared and her shy and self-conscious demeanor, he had felt a connection the moment they met. (That is not to include the collision of her hardcover and his temple).

A lot of you might romanticise this and say it is the consequence of love at first sight. While others would prefer to say it has to do with destiny, horoscopes and soulmates. We however will call it as it is: a plain and simple example of chemistry – one with an unknown solution.

Sol's warm glow is fading rapidly and the man soon becomes aware that he is standing in front of the same door his cabby had dropped off the not-so-silent passenger that sat beside him.

He recalls the words that had thinned his smile that night, when she had spilt the news that she was to depart to Alaska to live alongside her last familial relation.

Even with this realisation that the reunion could be nothing but a lost cause Rogers sticks to optimism and chooses to hang onto the hope that maybe Gabrielle at one point chose to come back. She did so seem to like this country. Maybe that affection eventually lured her return to the land of the brave.

Striding up to the threshold Steve prays the woman's health still permits her to receive visitors or that perhaps a member of the family she may (or may not) have made in her lifetime will let him enter. The only two remaining variables are either she passed and the flat is unoccupied, or, it is inhabited by a complete stranger.

This time though Rogers will not be handing over the book he clutches. So on the off chance that he will be answered, he raises a tentative hand to the door.

He knocks.

French: *The girl.