No Shit Sherlock

Hob has been oddly quiet, I haven't run into her in several days. Coincidence? Must investigate.

~

In the wee hours of this morning, teetering on the brink of sleep, the sounds began to assault me. First the slamming of heavy doors, then the thumping of unhappy feet. The walls shook, and the skittering that came from within them told me it could be only one thing.

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Eyes closed the visions of this other reality beat upon me. She should not be here, this is not her world. I try so hard to protect them from this, but it happens anyway. Have I failed? Or am I merely yet to succeed?

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Suspicions of good news for someone else. Overjoyed. Good news for all.

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Slip, slip, slipping away across the shores of...


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Blessings of health for those who are unwell, blessings of contentment for those who can not rest, blessings of love for those who feel alone. That should cover all their bases.

~

Fought the good fight last night and won for the wrong reasons. Victory, when soured by happenstance, is no victory at all. For hours I fought with myself trying to find a peace that would allow me to not have to start again. I still have not found that peace, and now the war that rages within me is for my very soul. By sun up Sunday it must be settled. By sun up Sunday we will know how this story ends.

Travel well.