→Amy 3: Hallow's End

Ellysse:


I'm sorry for          I hope you're not angry at me     mad at me for saying nasty   all in a snit for telling you like it is because that isn't what my Ellysse is like.

Anyway, I hope you had a fun Hallow's End down there in the south. Just in case you didn't get anything at all, like a friendless, rank old cat lady except without the cats, here's a trick and a treat for you.


Write soon,
A.D.




[enclosed, a flipbook depicting Amirael engaged in a lewd and nasty -- to a comically exaggerated degree -- striptease, discoloration and rot rendered in unflatteringly photorealistic detail. Thankfully, when the pants come off, a knobby, floating pickle obscures the worst of it from view.

And in a box beneath it, a 'necklace' made of delicate, glass-like candy beads.]

→SS4, Djanie: Always. (daily dribble)

"Catch anything good?"


I look over my shoulder only briefly at the man who's dropped to a crouch beside me; he's smiling hesitantly, shoulders hunched. It's a smile full of inarticulate masculinity, a fear-grimace he wears when he realizes he can't dance around whatever embarrassingly emotional topic is about to come up. The smile is worse, in a lot of ways, than any of his snarls or grimaces. I look back at the sea.


( The pause is awkward and long and noisy, the sighs of the waves competing with the pounding of the blood in my ears. )