Be classy - and sure - bad luck, Blink-182 stuck in my head, this stomach-churning need to travel. Something gets me up the cathedral steps, empty, connection to another stone floor, condemned. Knowledge that we woke with our heads tilted, cold buns, close to bars: linked for safety!

The chancellor wishes for some kind of decision, we were told by our advisor, this thing about showers. The queen was murdered in one. We're trying to keep this a secret. Cardinal Kid is up here on his horse, we can hear them gallivanting with wine by themselves. We're at the curve of the east side. All come back to nestling.

Can't help but think that we've sinned - tapping, rummaging, sinking.

Hard Work And Miracles - I have to go.