update from sparkleup

writing/post-self/idumea/full.md

@@ -1362,6 +1362,8 @@ This was close, dear readers! This was so close to what she sought. This worryin
 
 So, her search continued.
 
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+
 She met then with The Child after this diversion — for such was her errand, yes? This was her original reason for visiting the neighborhood, and she saw no reason not to continue along this path. She returned to the lobby of the theatre which served also as a community center for Au Lieu Du Rêve, the troupe in which the fifth stanza had embedded itself, long familiar despite her having never seen it — for, you see, Michelle who was Sasha was a theatrician before uploading, a teacher, a director, an actress. Theatre lobbies smell like theatre lobbies and theatre carpet underfoot feels like theatre carpet underfoot and the sound echoed precisely as she had always remembered it.
 
 Outside shone the sun. Outside grew the grass. Outside was the dusty gray of the asphalt street that wound around the center of this neighborhood — a street, for occasionally The Child and her friends wanted to rollerblade on a road, wanted to play kickball or catch, wanted to holler out "car!" as The Musician or someone with similar interests would drive — yes, drive! — through.