Sylvia wouldn't help. What about Annie? Maybe Annie knew a bit about them. If she did, I might be able to gauge what was acceptable. I didn't want thi... to be a big mistake. My thoughts returned to Chantelle. I was looking forward to talking with her again. "Good morning Angelo," I said. The door had just closed behind me, striking its bell. "Mr. Moore! So good to see you, Sir. Come in, come in." "I ah, just came in to change, Angelo. I think I'll retire the suit I'm wearing." "It's seen better. I know what lies behind the fire, and I know that it will never harm me, and so I walk towards it in stately procession, brown hair, impossibly long, flowing behind me like a train, or a flag, or a river, stretching back to the sea. Historically, I fought in the rearguard. The camp burned and everyone died. Except for me. Because I never die. Apparently. At least I haven’t yet. In my dream, I walk away from it all and towards the mountains where I know she’s waiting. The camp gives way and the. More

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