((Assuming it's still dark...)) Beatrice is in the library trying to read. Reading is normally a good distraction from things she doesn't like to think about, like unexpected aging and its implications, but it's made more difficult by the lack of light. Holding a flashlight while trying to read is a bit awkward ( Read more... )

The other day, Beatrice had a premonition. It was short, and vague, but still worrying, and she's trying hard to forget it. She can be found by the side of the lake, with a copy of The Phantom Tollbooth that she's looking at but not actually reading. Since the book isn't helping, she'd appreciate some company.

Beatrice appears to have acquired a box of matches. At the minute she's just sitting in a corner, lighting pages from the back of her commonplace book and watching as they curl up and disintegrate into nothing but ash. It's so beautiful. So powerful. She can't imagine why she was ever afraid of this ( Read more... )