mythopoeics

[Marlene had a knack for being first when it came to good wishes. She'd called at midnight yesterday to wish him a happy thirty-fourth birthday and then told him she'd make is favourite cake when he was in Texas again.

It was sorely tempting. The rest of the day had been spent quietly enough, taking care of business and looking for a new car. He'd never properly replaced the one that had been wrecked the year before, feeling unsatisfied with a couple. At least he still had Helen. And the Helen she was named after.]

I can't wait for this month to be over. It'll really feel like life's back in order, then.

Also, Percival, we should go back home a while. For Easter or something.