update from sparkleup

writing/post-self/idumea/002.html

@@ -47,7 +47,7 @@
 <p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; ey began, blinking a cone of silence into being over the table. &ldquo;I suppose it is In Dreams. It is a few of them, actually.&rdquo;</p>
 <p>The Woman nodded, lifted her drink for a sip, sighed. &ldquo;You have had mostly good things to say of them.&rdquo;</p>
 <p>&ldquo;Mostly, yes.&rdquo;</p>
-<p>&ldquo;But not always.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But not always.&rdquo;</p>
 <p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; Her Friend turned eir mug lazily from side to side on the tabletop, not yet drinking. &ldquo;Not always. There are times when we mesh quite well. Most times, even. There are times when we will go for morning runs and stay together in a group, but there are also times when we will lag behind, me and a few others. There are times when we will all eat together sitting around one table or having a picnic, talking about our days, and there are times when we will retreat to our own homes and eat by ourselves or with our partners.&rdquo;</p>
 <p>The Woman averted her eyes, nodded. &ldquo;As we do.&rdquo;</p>
 <p>&ldquo;As you and yours do, yes,&rdquo; Her Friend said cautiously.</p>
@@ -67,6 +67,18 @@
 <p>The tenth had left two empty chairs and two full plates at meals until three years prior.</p>
 <p>Now they left three.</p>
 <p>Her Friend, either knowing or seeing this, averted her eyes, casting her gaze instead out to the street. &ldquo;I am sorry, my dear. I was indeed feeling grief and loss over Should We Forget. No Longer Myself as well, yes, and Beckoning and more, but the one I knew best was Should We Forget. I am sorry.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Woman let her breath out most carefully, not letting it shake, not letting her lip quiver. &ldquo;I understand, yes. You knew her as well.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps we can speak simply of the fallout.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She bowed. &ldquo;I would appreciate that, yes.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Of course, my dear,&rdquo; Her Friend said, smiling, nodding her acknowledgement. &ldquo;The fallout of this conversation with In Dreams was that she told me that perhaps I ought to schedule a session, either with her or In Memory, or, failing that, someone outside the clade.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Is that what you wound up doing?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Ey shook eir head. &ldquo;I did not need that, my dear. I did not need to be told to go to therapy. I did not want to schedule an appointment.&rdquo; Ey finally took a sip of eir mocha, but this seemed to be less about the coffee than an opportunity to gather eir wits. &ldquo;I just wanted a friend, honestly. I just wanted a hug — no, I understand, perhaps not your thing, but I must be earnest, yes? — but instead, I got told to find a way to <em>fix</em> this. Fix grief. Fix a very real pain.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Woman&rsquo;s features softened and, steeling herself for the touch, she reached across the table to pat the back of Her Friend&rsquo;s paw. &ldquo;I understand, No Hesitation. Would that I could offer more. I am happy to be a friend, though; I have no interest in telling you to go to therapy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; ey said, smiling once more. &ldquo;I trust you of all people in that. I know that you have mentioned — however kindly — in the past that you have worried that I am simply providing you with therapy on the sly, but I trust that you know that is not the nature of our friendship.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>She nodded.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;All I wanted was to be close to someone who would not do those things.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, of course. There are many memories bound up in all of this, but there is also joy, yes? Joy that we are still here? That is what I have been trying to focus on.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Oh? How so?&rdquo;</p>
 <p>(Woman helps Friend by talking about memory without realizing it)</p>
 <p>(Woman realizes what unbecoming might look like)</p>
             </article>

writing/post-self/idumea/index.html

@@ -37,7 +37,7 @@ Soon as from Earth I go,
 What will become of me?
 
 — Charles Wesley, 1763</div>
-<p>At the end,</p>
+<p>At the end (maybe?),</p>
 <div class="verse">Eternal happiness or woe
 Must then my portion be;
 Waked by the trumpet&rsquo;s sound,
@@ -68,7 +68,7 @@ A curse or blessing meet?</div>
 </ul>
             </article>
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-                <p>Page generated on 2024-02-25</p>
+                <p>Page generated on 2024-03-23</p>
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