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As November slipped by, more of the downstairs of the mansion was slowly restored to its glory, clean and sparkling, bright. Light bulbs were replaced adding character to the rooms in the dark winter days. The one painting remained covered and she didn't comment on it. Shoving empty microwave dinner trays aside to clear space on the kitchen table, I told her to sit, and moved to the large refrigerator, tugging the freezer drawer open. With a Hungry Man meal in hand, I tore the box open, shoved the tray into the microwave, and set the timer. At the sink, I rinsed a used glass and filled it with water from the tap, placing it in front of her. She shied away from my hand.
Opening her shoulder bag, she pulled out a sheaf of papers and consulted them. She took her time, eventually commenting, "It says here that the welfare department has inspected your home and found you fit to be Lucy's guardian." She looked at me as if expecting an answer, skepticism clear in her expression. Don't believe that rubbish! There's no devil in you. And why would it scare me? So, can you see the lotto numbers?" I love the twists and turns in the plot that keep you guessing right to the end. And that ending! My heart was breaking. I cannot wait for the next one!’ Goodreads Reviewer, FIVE STARSWriting is intelligent, sophisticated and thought-provoking, establishing Foyle's personality with so much depth already and providing some tense and heart-tugging moments. The story is complicated, with a lot of strands that requires full attention, but clever and from start to finish intriguing. It paces itself deliberately but with so much going on it's never once dull and the twists and turns that slowly unfold keep coming. All the conflicts, social/ethical themes and how the period is portrayed are handled beautifully and tastefully and there is a real sense that war itself is a central character and has terrible implications. How it feels to have a broken soul is like walking through life with a hundred people in the room but only being able to see yourself. You can hear their voices, you can draw from their strength of them when you are down and out, and you feel uplifted when they tell you that everything is going to be okay. But no matter how strong you think they are, they’re still not there, so it’s your job to pretend that they are, and it hurts all the time. Noah changed. Lucy noticed it over the next two weeks. He was drinking less and smiling more frequently. As she explored the fun of cooking, he helped, either showing her what to do or sitting at the kitchen table keeping her company. Broken soul is not something you can easily explain to someone who has never had one. It is like having a layer of ice on your spirit, slowly killing it. It is the feeling of being lost. The feeling of being surrounded by people that refuse to accept that you have this soul-destroying disease. Even when you try to be normal and live life like everyone else, they will always remind you of what a monster you are. Broken soul quotes are perfect for those who suffer trauma and don’t feel good about themselves. Not only do broken hearts go through this, but people are involved in a divorce, the loss of an also loved one, and many other situations.
On a cluttered counter in the corner, I found an almost empty bottle and drank, heat searing down to an acidic stomach. Something nagged at me. What? A curtain of unwashed, dirty-blonde hair hid her face, head bowed. What was up with her? Was she mute? Deaf? Social services hadn't mentioned anything. Maybe she was praying. Having a broken soul can feel like millions of needles poking at you, something that I’m sure you would never want to experience. The pain comes in waves, intensifying as the seconds’ pass, taking over your whole body and mind until you feel like there is no way out. That feeling when a part of you is missing, the absence of something. The only thing that makes you feel like there’s a piece missing from your soul is when it breaks.That night, Lucy wondered if she should tell him she knew. Would it help or would he yell at her? Would it upset him? Deciding she didn't want to hurt him, she stayed silent. When I turned, she was sitting at the same spot at the kitchen table. At least her face wasn't hidden. She watched me through the curtain of her hair with dark olive eyes that looked far too old for her, far too knowledgeable. Sniffing my shirt, I decided my clothes would last another day without offending my sense of smell. I didn't give a damn, anyway. And then, when we finally returned home, Lucy tugged my arm. I bent and she kissed my cheek, whispering a heart-felt, "Thank you." There was a problem with her comment. High snow banks and a hedge prevented any view of the crossing street. You couldn't see anything until you were at the intersection.
Having a broken soul is like being a prisoner in your own mind. You can’t escape because you are surrounded by the fog of sadness that covers everything. It’s like living in a bottomless pit with no way out. In a quiet voice, she told me about seeing me break my ankle by stepping into a hole as we walked through the forest. She told me about trying to warn me I'd get the flu too if I stayed with her. She told me about my having an accident when shopping for a slow cooker and ending up in hospital. She mentioned seeing me burn myself at the stove when reaching for a cast iron pan. As she talked, I remembered each time she stopped me, and I was convinced she actually saw something. There are strange, unexplainable things in this world, so why not this?
Deviation Actions
Lucy knew arousal began in the mind. She wondered if Noah was dreaming of Marissa. And for some reason, she didn't mind Noah's erection pressed against her. It felt kinda nice.
I love Foyle's War for the situations and characters, who wouldn't? I love the scenery and situations, the drama and historical settings, the attempts to preserve a modicum of historical accuracy. I find it a flaw of the series in general that it presents an overly cheery and prosperous depiction of Britain during the War. Privation was real and widespread, and the public mood was darker than depicted. This particular episode really annoyed me for the reason I am about the make more clear. Occasionally she'd ask me a question: "Why do you drink so much?" "Do you ever sleep in a bed?" "What's a quark?" Slightly nervous, after waiting another ten minutes, she sneaked out trying to be quiet - not get caught, and began a cautious exploration. Her million watt smile blossomed, gorgeous, eyes sparkling. "It doesn't scare you that I have the devil in me?"It’s like having a broken heart, but it feels like the worst pain. You don’t know how to explain it, and even when you look at other people around you, everything seems so perfect and happy, but for you? Your life is a mess, and nothing seems to be getting better. Broken Souls" for me is one of the best 'Foyle's War' episodes, the best since the first half of Season 4 with "Bad Blood" (while still good there was a slight quality slump for that season's second half from personal view) and one of the most emotional. It has a lot of soul, and in a way that's heart-breakingly poignant. Like with many 'Foyle's War' episodes, on re-watch there was much more appreciation had for how well established the character development, tone and themes are and things that didn't quite connect entirely at first made more sense on re-watches. I found her sitting at the breakfast table in a familiar pose; head down, hair falling forward, hands in her lap - withdrawn. Sighing in frustration at myself, I served cereal, milk, and coffee for myself. Her silence was loud.
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