Gus *Gustav*

**years before** *His mother, The Countesses' chais speeds away, the sweeping of her chemise is barely heard. She's holding a bundle of cloth, soft lace, cotton bib-eyes strange to him..The cooing of baby girl? **even more strange** The moon was rising, still, there was more road ahead. Gustav narrowed his eyes slightly, towards his mother, sitting across from him. hearing the racket of the hoovefalls-heavy chuffs & grunting of the beasts* "Son, Please, that face is hardly charming, it spoils your features" *-His eyes averted now-straining & forcing himself to relax-until tension eases from his jaw-sooner or later his job would be-perfect the face Mother loved to berate*