Feuilly (
tu_vas_triompher) wrote2017-03-28 08:02 pm
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Labyrinth
One moment, the Labyrinth doorway. The next, a narrow bed in a cold room. A scuffling sound at the window pane, sparrows landing and then taking off again. An argument in some other room, muffled by walls but not very well: Go to hell, you're not my husband, you can't come here and talk like that to my kids.
It's all in French.
It's all in French.
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Slowly, he opens his eyes. The room is unfamiliar, too completely to be waved away as the distorting effects of a fever. And-- wait, hadn't he gone into the Labyrinth? He carefully pushes himself upright.
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