She
doesn’t move around as often, I find. I think she might be in a bit of a sulk.
I learned, though, that because she isn’t moving for me doesn’t mean she isn’t
moving at all.
There
was another person. A girl.
I
looked to the window, and there she was, dirty and frantic and pale. Stringy
hair, shivering badly. Wasn’t dressed for the chill, tiny little top and
shorts. And flip-flops. This girl was so impractical, I might have laughed.
She
called out to me when she saw me looking. It was like she hadn’t seen another
human being in years. She waved in a panic, calling out – asking things about
whether or not I was real, if I knew where we were, would I help her, please.
I
waited at the doorway, and when she came in, I brought one of the iron chairs
down on her head and bludgeoned her to death.
It
didn’t look like she appreciated the peace of this place properly. I think I
was doing her a favor.
Besides,
I think I rather like being on my own.
The
City’s been more active tonight. Squirming around like she’s excited about
something. I tossed the body out the door, and when I looked an hour ago, the
corpse was gone.
