(1938-12-25) Who The Hell Has Time (Esther)
Details for Who The Hell Has Time?
Summary: Myrus has stayed behind for the school break.
Date: 1938-12-25

… So, I haven't written here for some time. I'm going to preface this by saying I'm attaching you to a gift, so you're not gonna be burnt or shredded. I'm going to give you to Myrus.

Myrus. He stayed for me. At least, that's what I want to believe. Which makes it a little 'less' ok that he waited until /after/ I'd thrown myself at him 'one last time' before her told me. I'll make him suffer for that, in the nicest possible sense. I'm still so glad that I won't be spending this holiday alone (Aside from Tom, don't look at me like that) with nothing but my books and paints.

Speaking of books and paints, it seems I'm spending my days with Myrus and my nights with my books. And sometimes both. I wish they'd fix the girls bathrooms, though. With most of the prefects at home, nightly bathtimes are now almost impossible without /Pringle/ and since I spoke with Medusa, I just want to ram my wand…. Well, it goes without saying that he's not my favourite person.

Erm. What next. It's been a long time since I wrote in you, and /never/ for someone to read. I guess I'm giving a pretty damn selfish gift this year - And it's nice and all, but it's going to need a little bit of work before it's actually 'finished' - But I used the right potions, so when the Arts Club finally cover Living Images, it shouldn't be too hard to enchant it.

And hopefully I don't ruin it. And you can see just what our family might look like one day.

Yeah. Our family. You. Me. Our children. Your parents.

I've been thinking about that sort of thing more and more lately, you know. Not just… Sex, but life, family. Our home. The next generation. And I feel strong again; for that.

Love you.

I'll write in you again after New Years. But that one is DEFINITELY going into the fire.

The page is torn off…

Douglas gave me a tincture. I'll follow his advice on it, I just /pray/ that it's not some kind of prank.

The journal page is attached to a four square feet of canvas wrapped in a simple wooden frame. Esther's 'people' are a little more idealistic, focusing on their more obvious attributes. It's a cut-away of a house. A slender woman with wild hair, dressed in a phoenix-flame themed robe, placing both her hands over her slightly bulging stomach. A man beside her, clearly Myrus, knelt, with his lips touching her stomach. At the dining table, his parents are cradling cups of coffee.

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