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It was an artist’s apartment. The walls were covered with abstract paintings and weird carvings. Instead of practical furniture, there was but one drawing desk and a simple chair. The bed was located conveniently near the largest window, which was almost constantly open even in the winter. Pots and sculptures adorned the floors and the windowsills. Papers hung everywhere that Claire thought potentially could be art. The floor, which had once been a nice wooden floor, was now pock-marked with. When winter came she stopped wearing it.But it came back out for the Christmas party. Especially for me (she said). I told her that I love it when she wears it. She came to the party wearing it. All my friends were there. We had a great time.Afterwards she says she is really glad we’d attended. (She’d not been particularly keen to attend.) She seems really happy. She says ‘Your friend Steve is a really nice guy isn’t he?’I just smile and wait for her to continue.‘I’ve never really had a. She can see dozens of odd creatures roaming around a ran-down village. None as big as monstrous as the one standing before her. “Gub” he grunts “jun hub guntin” he motions towards her “W-what?” She shakes. “I don’t understand.” “Gub” he motions again “guntin” “I don’t know what that means” she feels tears welling up in her eyes. She was on solidly horrified. All the feelings of extant before touching the light have past. She wanted back. She wanted Jamie. She wanted school and her family.. Delicious though the villager’s food may be, the seasoning tasted strongly of garlic. She’d also eaten cooked garlic cloves with the meal, and powerfully strong onions. Mutton always left a nasty aftertaste in her mouth. Regardless, like everyone else at the celebration, she’d nearly eaten herself into a coma.The villagers exhibited good practice in their private functions. While a cadre of men unloaded the tables and chairs, and erected the half-dozen tents brought along as protection from the.
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