|cursedwings (cursedwings) wrote in repose,|
@ 2017-05-08 11:31:00
|Entry tags:||*delivery, atticus mcvickers, raven paredes|
[Because she said she'd try...
The list comes written in pencil on a torn-off side of a brown paper bag (that has a greasy spot on one corner and smells vaguely of lo mein). The handwriting shifts just enough to betray that items were written at different times. Sometimes the letters are almost unreadable, sometimes blocky print, sometimes a fine cursive. It shows up folded small and shoved under the carriage house door, much the same as the napkins had been.]
-Pea soup fog and streets that stink
-Trains. Across the country!
-A lodge that smells of men and sweat and musk. I am only allowed inside because they think I am a spirit.
-in nomine patris, et filii et spiritus sancti
-When the moon is round and bright as daylight, she becomes other and walks in the skin of a wolf. She looks huge to me and she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. [in slightly better handwriting, she's gone back to add:] (Loup-Garou)
-[Here she's written out a verse (in Portuguese) of a very old sailor's song. Trying to translate it to English doesn't quite work, as most of it is bawdy and slang-filled.]
-[Something that looks like it might be Korean.]
-The dog used to be a puppy and now he is silver around his mouth and dying. I haven't shifted in that time and I still look the same. I don't know how to speak.
[On the opposite side of the paper is a list of names. There's nothing tying them together - about 30, just first names. Men and women and some that it's hard to tell. Spanning obviously different ethnicities.]