First off, I want to report that we are all healed, or healing, here in the Midnight Mansion. (I was going to say "cured, or curing," but it made me think too much of smoked venison.) Mr. Midnight's antibiotics are kicking in strongly enough that he tried to go back to work a day early, although he acquiesced easily enough when I told him that he couldn't. It must have been my firm and stringent tone.
You know how sometimes you can remember something that you didn't even know that you forgot? Something that was significant enough that you can't believe you forgot it? I was walking my dog the other evening in the dark, something I do with increasing regularity since it starts getting dark so early. As I walked, I remembered that I used to be afraid of the dark, and I can't pinpoint when I got over it. But it was as recent as college when I was afraid to go into a darkroom when we did photography in Studio Art and got a senior to develop my film for me.
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Rian shall hope that someday I shall cease being afraid of flaming missiles with wings and flight attendents.
And I am sorry ye were ill. I am glad that ye are healing.
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