They called him the hunchback who couldn’t get a dame, and laughed uproariously at their sardonic wit.
Hugo accepted the jibes with humor, after all wasn’t God the greater jester, having missed the final brush stroke in his creation.
Hugo had searched for his Esmeralda, but alas could find no beautiful muse to sooth his tortured soul.
Desperate in his rented rooms, Hugo hunted for a piece of charcoal and a yard of canvass to articulate his despair of God’s missed brush stroke.
Struggling to express his inner torment on canvas, Hugo discovered that God had painted a rich tapestry within his soul.
A year later he was wed to Grace, his disfigurement forgotten, his soul triumphant.