(no subject)
The door (I don't know, the door) slowly swings open, and a girl's head appears. She is about nine or ten, she couldn't tell you which, and she acts far too grown up for either.
She doesn't know where she is. It wasn't here a second ago, and it's far brighter and cleaner than any place in the City. But she continues in anyway, albeit cautiously. She's on a mission.
"One?" she calls.
Typist: This is Miette, from La Cité des Enfants Perdus, or, The City of Lost Children. French with English subtitles. Anyway, it's awesome and you should see it, even if it is occasionally reminiscent of Charles Dickens on drugs. Or perhaps because it is.
She doesn't know where she is. It wasn't here a second ago, and it's far brighter and cleaner than any place in the City. But she continues in anyway, albeit cautiously. She's on a mission.
"One?" she calls.
Typist: This is Miette, from La Cité des Enfants Perdus, or, The City of Lost Children. French with English subtitles. Anyway, it's awesome and you should see it, even if it is occasionally reminiscent of Charles Dickens on drugs. Or perhaps because it is.