I'm staying a while, but I will NOT see 2012 as I am. I can't remember everything, but there are some memories I held on to like a barnacle to a ship. The garden. What I wrote about in the story set doesn't do it justice. It's real, though. I miss it already.
I am not here for myself. I am here in part to help vindicate another in her own mind. Also, to stand by her as she sees what she's always wanted to see, for she has done for me what very few would, and it was and still is very important to me. My one of two loves who I am chained to throughout the rest of eternity. I can also go home again on my own now, without my mentor's help. I'm a little less compromised. A little.
The mullethead had rechanged the sheets that were just changed a couple of days ago, and had sprayed them with attar of roses. My harness, boots, dress socks, torc, and all my leather were neatly on the bed when I got home. 'It' had also run to town and spent what must have been a couple hundred dollars on East Indian food, including 4 litres of mango lassi. 'It' told me the food had been in the refrigerator for a couple of hours.
Though for the fact I would miss our animal companions, things were going to be all right. I'd visit them perhaps once a week, out of time.
Everything was. . .as it was supposed to be.
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