ᘟ Ⳏ ⏃ Ꝯ ⎔ ⳙ ⏃ ᚷ ⎔ Ꝯ ⏃ Ꝯ Ⳏ ᘟ ⎔
⎔ Ꝯ ⏃ ⳙ ᘟ ᚷ ⎔ Ⳏ Ꝯ ⏃ Ꝯ ⏃ ᘟ ⎔ ⳙ

Selma

Dream-Witch // Cartographer of the Shared Dark

Oh. You knocked. They told you not to, and you knocked anyway. I could kiss you for that alone.

Don't mind the frogs, or the circle, or the smell. The Work is messy and I have stopped apologizing for it. Sit. Closer than that.

I am mapping the shared dark, you see. The one country every sleeper visits and no one remembers. And you, darling, came in still dripping with last night. Let me take a reading before it evaporates.

↩ slip back out to the motel