Talia, p. 36

*the writing is clearer, the ale only staining the edges*

Dreams of that night continue, but I know it to be a dream. It changes, flowing like water. Sometimes it is him, sometimes her, sometimes myself. It is always shifting, never stable. Drink only delays the dreams, it does not drown them. I will not sleep in peace until I speak to her. And even then… even then, peace is not guaranteed. I may lose more than a friend, perhaps a friend I never truly had. I fear the answers as much as I yearn to know the truth.

I will wait… she will come.


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