twelve ► after all

[gentleidealist]

[dictated]

[The journal picks up the ambient noises of the evening fauna-- soft crickets, a chill breeze, babbling carried by the wind and dying away. Someone's /roof after all that drama.]

Three hundred and four... three hundred and five...

[A sigh.]

Nope, not sleepy yet.

[ooc: open over the journals or in person B) Tags will come later tonight. Hopefully.]

Comments

[cricketycricket]

Well, for both your sakes, I hope that she does.... And if there is anything I can do at all to help, please don't hesitate to let me know.

[gentleidealist]

Yeah... I will. [a heavy sort of pause, and then he looks up]

Thanks, Doctor.