Monday, July 03, 2006. As a young man, he had always had the fantasy. Actually, he had had it even earlier, as a boy. Sometimes, it would reveal itself in his dreams. Sometimes, he would write or draw those ideas, those possibilities he wished he could indulge in. Silly, he would tell himself. Wanting to live and act in ways beyond any reality.

Monday, July 03, 2006. His agoraphobia and his acrophobia had crippled him both physically and emotionally many times in his life and had even cost him several of his dreams. Were not usually all that exciting, but for a change, he had plans.

Sunday, July 02, 2006. THE MARK OF THE ONE. His ear ached only in the absence of magic. He had cut his way through the last of the wizards in the city, and now his ear ached. The trull snoring beside him could easily have helped him to forget the dull throb centered around the stud he wore in the cartilage of his left ear, as she had last night, but that would cost him another silver. He was out of silver.

Il y aura toujours quelque chose pour détruire nos vies. On est toujours au bord du gouffre.