Angel Grove Net

They are gone. Mes ailes...my wings. Removed, simply like that. Smooth scars, someone who knew what he is doing has done it obviously. A surgeon perhaps, or spell, although I hardly can consider why it is, why it must happen. I do not...I cannot do...

I have not been so ever unsteady.

I can't..... I have never been more grateful in my life for my insomnia.