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Things about this evening:

freshstartwrite. Fun.
Dinner following. Also fun.
Calling Figments. Figments really need someone taking care of them. Figments no longer have a built-in person. *worry*
Figments coming over, peeling paint off the lenses of peephole in door. Peephole in door suddenly functioning, albeit out of focus.
Figments dragging me out for assorted grocery/etc. shopping.
The battle with the key duplicator machine, and a succession of assorted employees attempting to work same.
Genderbending moments while checking out.
Plotting, planning, scheming.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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