It had been months. Months since Jack had laid eyes on his true love. Somehow he had managed to survive that dreadful night, although he can’t remember much.

“Hey Jack, what ya doing there?”
“Same as usual.” Jack replied solemly.
“Not those cartoons again?” Jack's new friend Paulasked.
“They aren’t cartoons. They are what kept me alive for years in Paris. Well, what they used to be...”
Jack looked up slowly. The man he was trying so hard to draw, had walked away into the sunset. Jack let out a sigh. Ever since Rose had gone, he had lost his touch. His drawings which Rose had so often marvelled at, had turned into cartoons, as his new friend Paul put it.

“Give up. Your bright light in the artisic world is gone.” Paul commented.
“Maybe I should.” Jack replied.
All of a sudden, Jack’s attention was distracted by a beautiful young woman. Her hair was as red as fire, which peeked cheekily from under her coat. Jack’s fingertips throbbed. He found himself drawing, like back on Titanic. His stroke’s strong and sure.

“Hey Jack, that’s great stuff. Where did this artistic flair come from? It’s like it just came out an’ bit ya.” Paul noted.
“I don’t know. I was just sitting here and all of a sudden it... came.” Jack lifted his head. The woman seemed unsure of herself. Lost and alone. The woman looked over at Jack. Their eyes locked for a few seconds. Then, she turned away, and disappeard into the darkness.

“Do you know her Jack?” Paul asked a few seconds later.
“I am not sure. But I recognise her from somewhere.”
“Maybe she’s famous somewhere,” came a suggestion from Paul.
“Maybe….”