the tenth phase -- [accidental post!]
[What appears to be a rather hastily written note to a- erm, one of the many "help columns" within Thor's abundance of media suddenly flashes.
Obviously, unintended to, of course.]
Dear, ------- [The name is scratched out, perhaps from embarrassment or frustration.]
I tried telling the truth, but it only severed for me to be scoffed at. I don't understand. Things are so different from what I remember, and it appears as if there is nothing I can do.
My only friend as a child seemingly hates me and the whole world I was taught to protect.
What am I supposed to do?
[And then, underneath it is a shorter, somewhat more whimsical note:]
I like to cook, as well, but I have this... Well, I like to wear aprons.
...Frilly aprons.
Is that strange? My mother always said it was.