In the dark of night, men and creatures alike hide away. There's safety to be found in the darkness, but it's a double-edged sword, this safety. Like so many other things in life, it is only relative to the dangers that lurk in the night. One is only as safe as one is capable to face the monsters, within and without.

( A thin tendril of smoke rises up to the skies from the second balcony from the left, one story up. )

Sometimes, it's the easiest decisions that feel the hardest, and take the longest times to make. Thursday evening, after getting back from the park, Garak picks up his cell phone and dials a number he never planned on, never thought he would ( Read more... )

All the letters in the world won't change things for the better. Not when every time he writes down what he couldn't possibly speak out loud, nothing comes of it but a written response. They never really talk, not the way they used to, and in fact, that's the way it should be. He crossed a line all those months ago. It's only fair that he pay for ( Read more... )

Dear Mila,

( Cut for surprisingly frank, emo-wangst-tastic ramblings )

On Sunday evening, after weeks and weeks of paranoia, of countless sleepless nights and panic attacks, Garak stands looking at the contents of his medicine cabinet. He picks out one of the small plastic containers and shakes one small pill into the palm of his hand. Then another container and another small pill ( Read more... )

If we cannot change our nature, what does that make of me?

( Another letter, delivered in the same manner as the first, on Friday morning )

( Nothing but a plain, white envelope with 'Julian Bashir' written on it. Inside, a letter written in Russian cursive. Nothing else. )

On Tuesday evening, the strangely exuberant boy comes along with his brother to pick up the armchair. Money changes hands, pleasantries are exchanged, and the armchair is hauled out the door and out of the building and into the waiting car on the parking lot. Garak watches as they leave, feeling nothing but relief at having discarded the chair and ( Read more... )

The past month - has it been a month already since the scales? - has left Garak on the edge. He gets by at work, and in his spare time, he grows ever more reclusive. The world can't be trusted. No one can be trusted ( Read more... )