Room 512, Wednesday Afternoon
Edward couldn't rightly say he'd thought he'd regret putting up the frills for Christmas, but he was swiftly turning back on that opinion. He'd caught the image of old, hungry holidays past spent bent over in a church pew several times yesterday. And while those memories had become a thing of the past, today brought whole new other surprises.
Some weren't so bad - bloody hell, in some he seemed to be living in the lap of luxury. In others, he saw himself walking about in strange clothes, blue and white, with a hood; like something a dandy would wear, except somehow more dangerous. There were redheads and raven-haired beauties and a large black fellow with scars on his face in others.
But the one that troubled him was this one: himself, bent over, rotting away in what looked like the worst bloody prison cell the devil himself had shat out.
He held it in his hand as he sat upon his bed, studying it. Perhaps there was some secret to it, or some meaning. Whatever it was, it left him unsettled.
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Some weren't so bad - bloody hell, in some he seemed to be living in the lap of luxury. In others, he saw himself walking about in strange clothes, blue and white, with a hood; like something a dandy would wear, except somehow more dangerous. There were redheads and raven-haired beauties and a large black fellow with scars on his face in others.
But the one that troubled him was this one: himself, bent over, rotting away in what looked like the worst bloody prison cell the devil himself had shat out.
He held it in his hand as he sat upon his bed, studying it. Perhaps there was some secret to it, or some meaning. Whatever it was, it left him unsettled.
[[ open! ]]