Kolkata Peep P2

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. well, I don't fit in here. I can't stand up, I can't lie down..." Oh, right. That's a problem. Hey, you got friends on the outside, though, yeah?" Yeah, some. Some have gone into the Deep Roads, though." Whatever for?" Oh, ah ... to find the Paragon." Branka? I heard she was crazy. She'd have to be, taking her entire house into the Deep Roads..." Yeah, well, we need her to pick a King." I contemplated whether I should explain my unique situation to Faren. "It's complicated."We stopped talking at the sound of the door's hinges squealing. A dwarf came through carrying a tray with three bowls on it, and a large water skin. He handed us each a bowl gruffly, without saying a word, and then stood there staring while we ate. There was some sort of stew in the bowl, thick with a few unidentifiable floaty bits that might have been meat. I closed my eyes, steeled my resolve, and tipped it back; as a Warden, I needed to eat when I could, and I didn't think they'd bring me anything else if I. ”Amélie figured it would be easier to agree for now and worry about getting caught the next time. If there was a next time. As it turned out, her next fights were wrestling matches with Gérard. Until they entered adolescence they’d been pretty evenly matched, and for a year or two Amélie was taller than Gérard and usually had the upper hand. It was only temporary. Gérard, who had been swimming since he was a baby, soon began to put on muscle and weight and by the time Amélie began to sprout curves and to learn about all of the marvelous things her body was capable of, Gérard won every time.It was common among their contemporaries to marry as early as age fifteen. Father insisted Gérard wait until his education was complete and he returned from England. As for Amélie, she refused the few suitors their small community offered. Father and Grace showed their displeasure but Amélie was immovable. She didn’t know what she wanted, but she knew she did not want to be the bride of one of the.
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He was still waiting and standing downstairs, when she returned. ‘Oh, Mike,’ she wailed, ‘I am so addle brained, sit down. Be comfortable, where in heck are my manners?’ He laughed and said: ‘It’s no big thing Mrs Wharton.’ She winced just a little at him calling her ‘Mrs Wharton’ but let it go. Then they sat to talk. She fetched him a cup of coffee, that she brewed for him and then they talked. She warned him that she was going to cry, and that he shouldn’t mind that, since she cried a great deal these days anyway. Their talk was long, and parts of it, though she didn’t want to hear these things, especially details, were things that she knew he needed to talk about, to tell her about, and so, she allowed it and took it all in, putting it, purposefully away in her usually locked ‘Kenny’ room, there to simply remain hidden and not be brought out. They ended the initial talking part of the visit with both of them grieving and holding each other on the couch. Their hug lasted long.

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