Every fool’s got a reason for feeling sorry for himself and turning his heart to stone.

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

24 September, Day 486
The small hours of Wednesday morning, after moonrise



This town is getting to be just a little too much for me. I‘m getting sicker and sicker of catching my name in conversations and feeling like people are looking at me even when they can’t be. Tired of being challenged in a bar where I used to be able to keep order. Tired of worrying over being able to keep Miao’s family safe.

Not really any joy left in living in this horrible, strange town where dreams can come right up around you in the light of day, someone else’s terror making you scream. I’m tired of having nightmares about nightmares and wondering if I’ll be able to wake up this time. If I can’t walk away from the bad dreams, I can at least put behind me where they come true.

Telling Verdi was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but I can’t imagine I’ll be easy to remember. I’ll never forget her ever, though, and I’ll never pray to anyone or anything else as long as I live.

I put in my notice at the Whitechapel so that Valmont has time to hire another bartender, and sat down with the fellow who works at the Boy on my off days after I told Miao I’d be leaving. I hadn’t picked out a time to start walking, exactly, but I can’t sleep and the night’s cool and damp, so I guess now is as good a time as any. No one to meet in the dark, since most of the town must be at the doctor’s wake.

Pass the Salon on my way out of town and think of Ri, but sure and certain she’s down at the Tavern, being from the Carnival and all. Not that she’d want to see me anyway. I’d give a lot for a sight of her, but I suppose I’ll never have one again.

I slept most of the day and my rucksack’s light. Excolo will be long behind me before I have to think of resting.

CLOSED