009

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

[a woman appears, more openly disheveled than she would ever prefer. She is wrapped up in a floor length dressing gown, warmth against the cooler weather. Her feet are actually bare and her hair is down. Almost as if the process of placing it up has been interrupted. With cheeks flushed and breath quick, she is not particularly, entirely presentable. At least to her mind.

And she might have running]

The attacks have been escalating. It is not uncommon for them to be where the Doctor is not. After all, they were there first, a part of my childhood even before the Angel was. A shadowed figure reaching across the bed, dreams that felt far more real than they should be. But never have they come so fast, and with such frequency. It now seems as if they are there, behind every door, mirror and tapestry.

What has changed?

[she appears decidedly irritated]

Those are my thoughts, if you do not mind. Thoughts I have no desire to share.