"She Thought Me Handsome, My Opera Dancer..."

[psalm_onethirtyone]

Received Florian's letter this morning. Zara is sitting in my head reeling off a string of obscenities, but actually I don't know what she's upset about (exactly, I mean).

Patrice, on the other hand, is ready to strangle himself. He knows exactly what he's upset about. Combeferre or Musichetta are necessary to prevent imminent death. >_> Why do my socken do such dreadful things? I would beg to know; but, hey, I'm the one who said I liked figment angst.

To work!

Also, guh, Kali. I need you. ;_; Come home.

Comments

[mhari.livejournal.com]

Oooh, yes. *cling*

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

Sorry. *clingsback*

[mhari.livejournal.com]

Does that mean you won't? :P

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

Oh, when have I ever resisted the temptation to manage a little more figment angst? *gets typing*

[mhari.livejournal.com]

*grins and tickles and wins!*

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

*giggles and wriggles and squeals, eek, tickling!*

La (http://www.livejournal.com/users/russet_goddess/8463.html#cutid1)!

[mhari.livejournal.com]

*wibble*

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

*clings* Should they speak again to-night, or is that likely to make everything worse?

[mhari.livejournal.com]

Lord, I don't know. How much worse can they get?

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

...Your logic is irrefutable. Or your point is well taken. Something like that.