I'm What I don't know what to say. Now that the headache is gone and I can actually focus enough through the sound of the rain to get writing again, I don't know what to put down. I guess the simplest, most obvious thing should go first.
I'm so sorry.
I can't even hope to explain what it is that happened to me, or why I acted the way I did, but I
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And don't worry about me. I only sustained a small cut on my cheek, a mere flesh wound. It will be healed in next to no time.
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I also actually went home while you were gone. I didn't feel right taking up space in your house after everything I did. If you ever need a bigger place to crash, though, you can always come up to Sector 3. I'm not sure how claustrophic or whatever you are. I know the Temporary Quarters were getting to me.
Hell, after all you've done? You're more than welcome to move in. To be honest, this place is too big and too quiet for just me. It makes my insomnia worse. It wouldn't be imposing, I promise.
At least think about it.
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I'm glad you felt well enough to make your way home, but you were more than welcome to stay there longer.
That is a very tempting offer. I don't mind living in Section One, but it isn't the roomiest of accommodations.
I shall, thank you.
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The headache was mostly gone and I could see straight. I figured that was more than enough strength to take an elevator ride and go home. It worked out mostly flawlessly.
Good, let me know whenever you've decided. I'm at the [he draws a poorly-sketched map to his place in Sector 3]
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'Mostly' flawlessly? Still, I'm glad to hear you're home and safe.
Thank you for the map. I'll let you know when I make up my mind.
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Yeah, uh, don't ask. I made it, at any rate.
Sounds good. See you then, Fred.
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