It hasn't been a full month, so you still have the apartment. I've popped in and kept an eye on it. I broke some of your
I fed the cat. As promised.
Get here now. I'm fine.
Reader, she is not fine. Anathema's been ebbing over the last few weeks, sometimes furious, sometimes grief-stricken, usually pacing in circles. Livid at the fact that there's no easy guideline for the future or prophecy in her pocket to say She'll be back tomorrow or She'll be back in a month or She will never, ever return to you. She's enjoyed the blank slate and freedom of going off-book, mostly, but this unpredictably is something else. This one catches in her throat, has left her distracted and morose and inconsolable. She hates it, hates it, hates it.
She's not even grinning at her communicator, can't find it in herself to be happy or celebrate just yet, because of the complicated roil of emotions in her chest: it doesn't feel real. It's not going to feel real until she lays actual eyes on Sal and confirms it for herself.
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I broke some of yourI fed the cat. As promised.
Get here now. I'm fine.
Reader, she is not fine. Anathema's been ebbing over the last few weeks, sometimes furious, sometimes grief-stricken, usually pacing in circles. Livid at the fact that there's no easy guideline for the future or prophecy in her pocket to say She'll be back tomorrow or She'll be back in a month or She will never, ever return to you. She's enjoyed the blank slate and freedom of going off-book, mostly, but this unpredictably is something else. This one catches in her throat, has left her distracted and morose and inconsolable. She hates it, hates it, hates it.
She's not even grinning at her communicator, can't find it in herself to be happy or celebrate just yet, because of the complicated roil of emotions in her chest: it doesn't feel real. It's not going to feel real until she lays actual eyes on Sal and confirms it for herself.