mythopoeics

Okay, so there's this thing I've not mentioned so much before, but I'm Eros. It's pretty awesome being me.

Also. Rosana. If that is your real name. I think you're still a homewrecker but you're a good mom. Don't tell my mom I said that because she'd get pissy.

Are we done here? I think we're done.

Aunt Regina. I believe I promised you afternoon tea. Pencil me in some day this week.

Helen. What the ever-living fuck am I supposed to say to you?

I should say that I was acting out of sorts but I think that would be a most profound lie. Everyone knows I'm a violent, unpleasant man. I will never say it with fucking flowers.

Well. That was fun.

It's a shame we couldn't stay longer. I enjoyed it. I particularly enjoyed watching Glastheim burn to the ground while the people puked their guts out.

[She'd been walking home alone, something Uriel never encouraged, when she'd broken down. Shattered. After being approached in an alleyway for a light, she'd simply unraveled in a series in screams until the ambulance had come to bring her to safety. Uriel had been called in to find his sister strapped down by her wrists to a bed, a sight he wished he hadn't had to witness.

But he would never question God's plan for his sister. Not now, not ever.]

[filter; nanna, morgan & aeneas]
Lucia is in the hospital. She's unharmed, but unstable. I can be reached on my cell while I'm with her.

When I returned, I learned that one of my photographs had been short-listed for an award. And apparently I was in Australia for the tennis in January. That explains the tan.

I must admit, I enjoy being free of the ridiculous corsets and gowns. I enjoy being able just to run again. Speaking of which. Hector, can we meet tomorrow? Perhaps go for a run and then talk talk?