The morning was as precise as the waves and just as indestructible. Aveline needed a few more hours of blackness. Not to sleep, but to prepare, to pour her thoughts out onto the deepest page of her mind, reorganize, prioritize and pack them back in again.
But already she could see the chaos that was unfolding in her room, the dark ragged outline of the shiny clothes on the dresser and the tall lamp she always tripped over in the dark. Soon there will be colour and noises, the smell of the butler and cookers making breakfast.
What happened earlier? How did everything happen? How to stop them? Every question will be answered. But illogically.
Knock Knock
A knock on the door and Ave got herself up idly from her rolling chair. It was obvious that no one slept because of the incident of las
