| Kiran Zeller: 17 September 1942 |
[20 Jan 2009|06:34pm] |
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Work is work, same as it ever has been. At least I haven’t managed to backlash myself while working on a patient again.
Haven’t heard from Mother, which might be a blessing, depending how angry she is I missed services. Everyone was off at the wedding that didn’t happen, someone had to stay here. She knows I’m not really observant, even though we all pretend she doesn’t.
I did miss seeing the family. Ilan is back from Palestine, I hope I get a chance to see him. Not in a work context! Rachel and Mother might have stopped shouting quite so much now that she’s living with the Goldsteins. If they haven’t I’ll have to reconsider proposing to Ros Clutterbuck since she’s the only woman I’ve ever met with enough steel in her spine to stop one of them. I’m still saving that as an option for the next time she won’t stop arguing with me about a diagnosis. Might confuse her enough for me to win.
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| Sebastião Aiona: 17 September 1942 |
[20 Jan 2009|06:32pm] |
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Took a shot to the calf today. Annoying but not serious. Think the captain we attacked recognized me. Which means the posters are out again. I might be making things more dangerous for everyone, I’ll have to think about this. There’s no shame in leaving if I’d be getting others killed but I want to stay and fight until I can’t anymore. There’s nowhere to hide they wouldn’t find me eventually, anyway. Though I hear Britannia’s nice.
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| Jerome Device: 17 September 1942 |
[14 Jan 2009|05:38pm] |
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Rosalind, #… 146 (I think)
When I was young I loved a queen of ice
Who would never speak words she did not feel.
And when she left me, she was kind and nice;
My heart was ground beneath her pretty heel.
I am older now, my heart no longer hurts,
To be more than friends would drive us mad.
But that does not stop us, when the other flirts.
I’m unsure she sees that I can be had.
Most likely all this worry serves no purpose
Except for poetry from one of us.
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