Re: Call: Alexander/Eloise
You forgive me everything, Alexander. That's blood, darling, not the love of a man for a wife that flings china at his head when he doesn't come home for days. [A small laugh.] Mama likes to think she controls the rising of the moon and the setting of the sun. [Smile. She's accustomed to this conversation.] I only haunt you because I make you think of long corridors and summers spent running down them, long before we realized there was nothing to run to and nothing, truly, to run from. I am memory, dearest brother.