7
Vienna 1914
Rather than bringing her about regularly, George brought Anna to the studio every other week as the winter months crept to a close. The falling snow on the skylights barred all natural light from entering, and I was left on my own, suffering as I always do during the famine months I call winter—except that this year, I was prepared. I’m often forced to live by my wits through most winters, eating once a day, sometimes missing a day now and again. I’ve been known to trade portraits for food in an attempt to build some degree of credit, and by that I mean while my debts are sometimes overwhelming, I somehow always manage to pay them off once the spring and summer months return—as well as my clients.
It was a cold, hard winter all the same; the wind blowing bitter and bleak, seeming to linger forever. The snow piled in high drifts, covering the walkways and making it diffic…
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