969

In the east wing, long deserted, I had what I can only term a vision as I searched for Megan’s coffin.  It was not a hallucination.  It was very real.  Julia was a maid.  Quentin was pictured as a husband and father.  Julia quarreled with Elizabeth.  The door was closed and when it opened, I was facing the room as I had expected it to be: sans power and quite bare.

Is this some reflection of who we are?  Could there be duplicates of us living here?  But then, how did the room change?

Is this a result of the I Ching?  One of Nicholas’ spells?  If this room is a reflection, what am I, there?  I hope I am a better man, or at least, a happier one.

BC

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