478

N–

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily.

You get the idea.

You only told me that the generational avatars of the others would be here, not Josette, herself.  Naturally, her slumber shall be first (although Peterson is so tempting on so many, many levels).

I have developed such a penchant for poetry, as well you know.  Here’s a bit of light verse I composed just this evening for my new friends:

Through Sight and Sound and Faceless Terror,

Through endless corridors of Trial and Error,

A blazing Head of Light does burn,

And one door leads to the Point of Return.

I rather like it.

 

Thank you,

Cassandra Collins

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