Three days out. It's still sometimes seemin' a dream I'm bound to wake from. The familiar made strange, while the bizarre ain't that shockin'. A warehouse in place of the tavern I cut my first purse in. A new inn, lookin' like somethin' dropped outta the Lady's. Sure, some o' the merchants are the same ones when I got nabbed. Think Jezebel might even 'member me, judgin' by the look she gave me when I bought that sword. The familiar faces, though, not so much. Meantimes, the Hive don't even seem the same place, like the streets go to different endins than I 'member. An' it bein' the Hive, odds are them I used to run with are dead or worse, or'd not be all that welcomin' to see me back. 'Course, got some new names might be lookin' to meet, but let's give it a few days. Talkin' to the wrong folk could be as bad as nippin' jewels.
'Course, that was a diff'rent life, a diff'rent me. Sure, still gettin' the urge when I see somethin' shiny, but I can hold it back. Inside ain't noplace I wanna be notime soon, an' if the dark's right, the chit runnin' the Red Death'd have a problem with Ree-sid-a-vision, or whatever that word is. Ya done time, ya come back, she makes sure your neck gets stretched an' good.
'Course, there's worse things in that place'n gibbets. Worse people 'n the folks in the cages, I can tell ya. Phoebe, fr'instance...
Nope. Ain't gonna write 'bout her, don't even wanna think 'bout it. I'll jump a portal to Dis or Plague-Mort before I wind up livin' through that again, e'en if my soul's just jink for it. Ain't goin' back, nohow, no way, an' maybe those dreams'll stop in time, get some new ones 'at don't involve flesh-its, or whatever the damn word is. Can only hope, righ'?
Jessilin Zhe
