...
...I was so close to just killing myself when, of all things, I could have sworn I heard someone calling for "Uncle Paul". I haven't been called that in years. And then when I dragged myself out to look, there was Armand St. Just, seven years old and wanting to show off his pet rabbit. But...Margot wasn't eleven, she was an adult. I don't know what's going on. Margot brought me home and put me in bed with something to drink...it must have been drugged, because I fell asleep until just a little while ago. And then...
No, it's not possible. I must still be dreaming. Fleurette? My sweet little cheri Fleurette, here? It can't be. After so long...
Maybe I should eat something and try to clear my head.
No, it's not possible. I must still be dreaming. Fleurette? My sweet little cheri Fleurette, here? It can't be. After so long...
Maybe I should eat something and try to clear my head.