Several days of
careful travel have led us here, into Texas.
No one looks at
us twice, here, which is rather a relief.
We’ve been
careful about our choice of place to stay; thanks to a bit of panhandling along
the way, Alyssa and I were able to afford a room for a single night, and I
couldn’t be more grateful for coincidence.
It’s a place
where the owners don’t mind Windmill, though they commented on him looking ‘a little
off’ and recommended a good animal doctor they knew.
They were also
worried about the scarring along his side, but I assured them he was a tough horse
and had long since recovered from that particular battle wound.
It’s also close
enough to the library we’re considering.
We’ve staked out
a couple, on our journey, and dismissed the ideas when one of us would be
plagued with nightmares – taunts, I think, from the Vision.
I have seen
Alyssa and Windmill be murdered, right in front of me, several times.
I’ve lost count,
of the dreams. I’m able to tell which are simply nightmares, and which are
visits from The Vision; in my subconscious mind, I have both eyes, whereas She
has me go through my night terrors half-blinded, as I am now.
Essentially,
sleeping here tonight is our test run.
We have yet to
experience anything from The Vision telling us this library is too dangerous.
Strange – in a
way, it’s as though she’s trying to help, and warning us through torture.
If there are no
dreams tonight, tomorrow morning, Alyssa and I will go in.
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