muckefuck | Hkaγe akxa ąpą iiðaðe (Reply)

I was so tired on Monday that I went straight home after class. The sun was just setting and I went straight to the roof to watch it. The light over the lake was indescribable; somehow, the water reflecting the clouds lit up by the dying sun managed to be brighter than the clouds themselves. I came down to find my apartment stuffy and close; as I was opening windows, I heard a surprisingly loud cawing and saw a very large crow sitting in the locust right outside my bedroom window. I watched it for a bit before it flew away, pondering the wisdom of my ancestors in viewing it as a bird of ill omen.

I survived, but I did have odd dreams. Were they just a function of how long I slept? All in all, despite the awkwardness of being caught in the wrong manor house at suppertime due to a compromising dalliance, I much preferred my stint as Lord Crawford to my time atop a pyramid as a captive Aztec figurehead the previous night (which I blame entirely on

monshu's choice of t.v. programming). On the other hand, the scrap of human flesh given me to eat by the priests (not to mention the foil-wrapped meat pie) was far tastier than anything likely to come across an English board. Oh, and

bunj, do you know how to wield a Schläger? Judging by my awkwardness attempting to demonstrate the use of one to a flirtatious lady during my tour as a German aristocrat in another dream, I need some serious practice before I ever take one up in a duel. Who knows? It could happen tonight--then where would I be?