*Odette*
Drumming my fingers on the table in the kitchen, I couldn't have been more bored if I were lying in a coffin. What am I to do with myself all day?
The hours drag by. I consider going for a walk, but I don't trust my memory. Lupo has the right of that. I can't guarantee that I would recall how to make my way back here.
Earlier I stood on the front stoop and nothing beyond looked familiar. Oh, the horses and the wagons, the occasional dog... I know what they are. I can name objects. But the street itself, the buildings that line it, are as foreign as preparing pheasant for dinner.
And there are so many more eyes, staring at me, knowing things I don't. So I retreat back into the house, wandering aimlessly, striving to unlock the secrets of my life, wondering why the thought of se
