(Untitled)

[voiced_silence]

So, my story in Romania earned me a fractured arm. So. Frustrating. This entry has already taken too bloody long to type. Still, I got some good material, so I suppose it's worth it. I learnt a lot about the superstitions of daily life in isolated villages. I also learnt that dancing with wolves isn't all it's cracked up to be

Comments

[this_is_vienna]

I'm coming right over with wine and pie, you poor thing.

Wolves? Jesus.

[voiced_silence]

Mmm, you do know how to make a woman feel better! My hero, Victor. Thank you.

Yeah, him too! How'd you guess?

[this_is_vienna]

You're very welcome, Beautiful.

Oh dear. Well, we're both Jewish, so we're totally homies.

[voiced_silence]

Hahaha! Beating the stereotype. I like it.

[father_peter]

I'm so sorry, Chiara...

[voiced_silence]

It's hardly your fault! Peter, I'm glad I was there. Don't you go feeling bad. Hazards of the profession.

[father_peter]

Yes well...guilt is quite a hazard of mine. Or a hazard of my ex-profession...

[voiced_silence]

True, true. It really is okay, though. The arm will heal. The experience is forever.

[dangerousangles]

Ooh, story. I can read?

Least you didn't have a broken arm AND broke ribs. That was so fucked.

[voiced_silence]

Of course you can, love.

Ugh, that would be hell. At least I can still do things slowly at the moment.

[dangerousangles]

Slow sucks arse.

[voiced_silence]

Succinctly put.