Setsuled's Journal

I just made my third attempt to read a story Sonya posted in her blog yesterday. I can't get past the first couple sentences. It was the same way the last time one of her stories appeared in Sirenia Digest. Sense and meaning fade under big sadness and confusion. I guess I still miss her. Every now and then, I think about e-mailing her again, but then I remember what happened the last five times I tried that. And it's not like I like her less now, so it's not likely she'll want to talk to me more. She'd probably call the cops or something. Or whoever you call for e-mails, which I guess is no-one, if all the e-mails from Nigerian princes signify anything. But I refuse to be spam. Fucking hell.