Spring brings new growth, cracks open old wounds.
[Midmorning of Saturday, March 20 (day 293)]
[Inside the Miskatonic]
Cooler than it's been of late, though think some of that's the wind. Woke up with less of a mind for speaking with folk, and spent the morning down in the graveyard, neatening things as needed it. The lines and chisel of Pelan's marker softened over winter, and's started taking on the look of a grave that means to stay settled, even if the ground's no longer frozen.
The quiet's left me more in the mood for watching folk, and the Miskatonic's less crowded than last week, so I take a seat by the window and trouble Tulzcha for tea and think of what needs doing today. May see after taking the washing to Mrs Ramsay or someone of the like; I can still do it, but it's growing less than comfortable, and if I've a choice of what work to do I'd rather that not be it.
Rest my chin on my hand and watch out the window at market. Not thinking there's anything particular I need, but suppose I'll take a look afore I head home...
[Open]
[Closed]
[Inside the Miskatonic]
Cooler than it's been of late, though think some of that's the wind. Woke up with less of a mind for speaking with folk, and spent the morning down in the graveyard, neatening things as needed it. The lines and chisel of Pelan's marker softened over winter, and's started taking on the look of a grave that means to stay settled, even if the ground's no longer frozen.
The quiet's left me more in the mood for watching folk, and the Miskatonic's less crowded than last week, so I take a seat by the window and trouble Tulzcha for tea and think of what needs doing today. May see after taking the washing to Mrs Ramsay or someone of the like; I can still do it, but it's growing less than comfortable, and if I've a choice of what work to do I'd rather that not be it.
Rest my chin on my hand and watch out the window at market. Not thinking there's anything particular I need, but suppose I'll take a look afore I head home...
[Open]
[Closed]