047
[Charlie has escaped to the only cool place left in this summer heat: the Four Season’s Room. And once there, he built himself a snowman because that’s what you do when you’re in the snow and you’re trying to forget watching a little girl get swallowed up by a river in a dream that was far too real]
[But now that that’s done, he fidgets uselessly and sits a ways away from the little snowman. Eventually, he pulls out his journal if only so his hands have something to do and writes: ]
If anyone’s keeping track, you can count another bad dream… [He pauses. Victim, he supposes, but he hates to call himself a victim of anything, particularly something so insubstantial as dreams. So he’ll just… end it there, leaving the journal open and returning his attention to the gentle snowfall and the snowman’s tilted, black smile]
[But now that that’s done, he fidgets uselessly and sits a ways away from the little snowman. Eventually, he pulls out his journal if only so his hands have something to do and writes: ]
If anyone’s keeping track, you can count another bad dream… [He pauses. Victim, he supposes, but he hates to call himself a victim of anything, particularly something so insubstantial as dreams. So he’ll just… end it there, leaving the journal open and returning his attention to the gentle snowfall and the snowman’s tilted, black smile]