Fourteenth Article
[Luke's Journal]
Flora is not my wife. Flora is not my wife. Flor
a is not my wife. Simon is not my son. Flora is
not my wife. Simon is not my son. Flora is not m
y wife. Simon is not my son. Flora is not my wif
e. Simon is not my son. I do not live in Mayfiel
d, America. Flora is not my wife. Simon is not m
y son. I do not live in Mayfield, America. Flora
is not my wife. Simon is not my son. I do not li
ve in Mayfield, America. Flora is not my wife, n
or is simon my son, just as that Nia girl is not,
either. The two of them I only happend to meet t
hrough a series of events. My home is in London.
I have a goal that I must not loose sight of whi
le staying in this town. I can't forget what he
did. I will not be fooled by this town. Not ever.
[The next page over:]
Valentine's is in a few short days, obviously. I've the house alone with Flora... Simon hasn't done anything, so far as I know, and his droning was sudden. With luck he's been sent home. Good for him, although I doubt Flora is taking it well... at least not better than me.
Remember to pick up Roses on your way back from work. Maybe I'll pick up some barrettes for Flora's new hair cut. I swear, if I ever get a hold of the bastard who conned her into it, he's going to wish his mother was never conceived.
[Network | Filtered from drones]
[He sounds a little down.] To any friends of Simon's--Simon Jiha--he's been droned. Does anybody know if he's been up to any trouble lately? By the city's standards, I'd say he's been "behaving well", so it might be permanent. I apologize to any friends of his.
That Thanksgiving holiday... the American one. They locked us in our kitchens for that holiday. Christmas was the strange time time warp; I suppose I should be used to time differences though.... I'm a little concerned what might be in store soon.
Flora is not my wife. Flora is not my wife. Flor
a is not my wife. Simon is not my son. Flora is
not my wife. Simon is not my son. Flora is not m
y wife. Simon is not my son. Flora is not my wif
e. Simon is not my son. I do not live in Mayfiel
d, America. Flora is not my wife. Simon is not m
y son. I do not live in Mayfield, America. Flora
is not my wife. Simon is not my son. I do not li
ve in Mayfield, America. Flora is not my wife, n
or is simon my son, just as that Nia girl is not,
either. The two of them I only happend to meet t
hrough a series of events. My home is in London.
I have a goal that I must not loose sight of whi
le staying in this town. I can't forget what he
did. I will not be fooled by this town. Not ever.
[The next page over:]
Valentine's is in a few short days, obviously. I've the house alone with Flora... Simon hasn't done anything, so far as I know, and his droning was sudden. With luck he's been sent home. Good for him, although I doubt Flora is taking it well... at least not better than me.
Remember to pick up Roses on your way back from work. Maybe I'll pick up some barrettes for Flora's new hair cut. I swear, if I ever get a hold of the bastard who conned her into it, he's going to wish his mother was never conceived.
[Network | Filtered from drones]
[He sounds a little down.] To any friends of Simon's--Simon Jiha--he's been droned. Does anybody know if he's been up to any trouble lately? By the city's standards, I'd say he's been "behaving well", so it might be permanent. I apologize to any friends of his.
That Thanksgiving holiday... the American one. They locked us in our kitchens for that holiday. Christmas was the strange time time warp; I suppose I should be used to time differences though.... I'm a little concerned what might be in store soon.