Sorry for the delay, readers, but I have to work more often in the summer. (Mr. F, haven't you ever seen Bambi?
If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.)XIV.
It's really wierd, but I am oddly fascinated by my hands. I watch as tanned skin is replaced by smooth blue-green scales and fingernails are replaced by claws. It's not like it hurts. I don't feel any pain anymore, well, not physical stuff anyway. I do feel kind of bad about how I treated Lis, though. But not for Ian. Definately not for Ian. I do wonder what has happened to her.
I feel like a prisoner here. I want to be outside and feel the sun on my back and the rain on my face. This room is horribly stuffy and small. And boring. If it weren't for my computer, I would be completely alone. Maybe I am? I hope I can go outside. Even Ian would be more tolerable outdoors. Then I could chase him...
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