She thinks that - with the right decision - I'd make a wonderful husband to her.

I think she's a bit full of herself. She's wordy and talks as though she is better than me. She stands still when she talks.

It's like speaking with a corpse. No reactions. No movements. She's so absorbed in her little word that she can't bother holding a good conversation with me.

I just want to talk to someone who doesn't think they're better than me. Someone who won't talk down to me.

I don't know. 

I want a lot of things right now. A lot is going on. I want some sense, I guess.

Mother sent me a voice recorder. I suppose she wants me to get used to talking more. Something of the like.

I quite like it. It's been a while since I've used one - my last one broke. They were used at work a lot - people would pay a lot of money to get a recording of your voice. Especially in that environment and situation.

Maybe later, though. I don't want to sound crazy to the witches walking by.

(A small drawing at the bottom of the page almost represents a voice recorder. Eunan was never one for art - he was a writer. The drawing ink is smudged.)