[No. Not true. Even as she hits send she knows it's wrong.
The trees in the Arcadia Bay cemetery are orange and red this time of year. The leaves wither and fall, tiny motes of flame fluttering to the ground. Filling the air wherever you go. They are mesmerizing in their passing, beautiful even as they die. They brush softly against the tombstones there, in a cold autumn wind.]
leave me alone
[Whatever else he says, she won't reply. She won't even read it.]
no subject
if i did shedbe alive
[No. Not true. Even as she hits send she knows it's wrong.
The trees in the Arcadia Bay cemetery are orange and red this time of year. The leaves wither and fall, tiny motes of flame fluttering to the ground. Filling the air wherever you go. They are mesmerizing in their passing, beautiful even as they die. They brush softly against the tombstones there, in a cold autumn wind.]
leave me alone
[Whatever else he says, she won't reply. She won't even read it.]