This paranoia turns to fear, there's too much whispering in your ear...

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Evening; late. June 30th
The Mayor's front porch

Can't sleep. Wish I could. I'm tired. Not just 'it's been a long day' tired... no. It's a "my mind won't freakin' shut down" sort of tired. Thought sitting out here in the fresh air would help, but it's not.

Went over to the Carnival to talk to their management. At least, I think I did. I know I went over, I know I was admitted to a very normal looking wagon... and I remember walking away from it. As for the meeting? Fucked if I can recall a single damn thing we talked about. Only that some of the people working here looked... relieved when I came out.

So. I guess that went as well as I could hope?

Rose has been disappearing more and more. I wish I could chalk it up to wanting to be independent and out on her own to explore... but firstly she's three. Most other children her age would be learning to speak in broken sentences, put on their own clothes. My daughter was reading The Canterbury Tales... in middle English. Secondly---

her sire has been like a howl in my head. I have the sinking feeling she has been going to find him. Which is more worrisome than... well, everything.

Tired and worried enough that I can't shut out the music anymore tonight. Song after song filters through, but not enough to cover the howl of the desert from the North of town. With a sigh, I close my eyes and lean my head against the railing.

(Open to Rose, Kent, or anyone familiar enough with the family to drop in late)