March, 1921.

[teachyouwhoiam.livejournal.com]

I imagine I am very politely driving Edward insane.

My eyes are still different; the minimal interaction I have had with others has been curtailed and stiff. I do a lot of writing and hunting now, and feel more...inhuman, than I have in some time.

Edward does what he can. I am grateful to him here, now, always. We are in Minnesota for no reason I can adequately discern - but it is somewhere different, Edward says, and I did promise him travel. He has a wandering soul sometimes. This may be good for him - I am unsure.

Regardless, I am here in the apartment we have rent by week and Edward is elsewhere.

I am bored.

- C.C.

Carlisle to all comers would appear asleep - sprawled across a low couch belly-down and eyes shut.

Comments

[iwouldfollowyou]

Except that appearances really aren't as deceiving to some. Especially from streets away. Even while watching hundreds of other things. It's a calm enough day all things considered. Not one of the worst ones, or best ones so far.

Edward skirted a patch of random sunshine walking along a row of buildings, not even pausing as he turned up the collar of his coat with a smooth, uncaring air to it. Cafe's and mechanics and insurance stores, all struck together with no rhyme or reason.

So very like the people who stood next to each other in his mind.