Europe had its moments, and it also had places that Athena would prefer never to see again. Paris ranked at the top of that list, and she still had trouble going back to the neighborhoods in England where she'd lived with her mother. Cassandra told her she'd get over that the older she was, but the nightmares said differently. If that was the only scars she had from that, Athena supposed it could have been worse - she could have died when Odessa did, and she hadn't. "I've been to Paris, yes," and thank god she'd had a lot of years of practice so that way her face didn't fall completely when she talked about the city, "but I never got to the Louvre. I was too young then, and we were only for so short a time." Talking about her day job always helped keep her mind from wandering where it shouldn't. "And yes, at the Scarlet Oak Public Library. I'm there most mornings, so if you stop by, I'm sure you'll find me."
It was always intriguing to listen to an artist talk about their work. Usually there was so much more behind a piece than what you saw in clay or on canvas, and sometimes it only made sense to the artist. "I like that work more, I think," she said. "Something based in reality, something you can actually relate to. It's kind of like reading a fairytale, it's good for an escape every once in a while but sometimes you need something to ground you. Keep you in the present day." Athena had all sorts of books for both occasions, whatever she was in the mood for the time. "And I bet that painting of her hands came out wonderfully."