Diary - Words Given Shape

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CardofTemperance

Sunday Every Morning
There is a lack of drivers in town.


This frustrates me to no end. I did not bring with me the shoes to carry a woman from one side of town to the other by foot. What I have bought is fitting for to and from coach and not scuffed on the gravel of the rotten streets lining establishments of rest, or what they call them, taverns.

I cashed up some cheques with the local teller and informed them that they must be cleared in no more than seven days. I was assured this would be fine.

I will need plenty of solid, hardwearing boots.

I have noticed a lack of sun. I have noticed building thunderheads to the north. Just another reason to feel fed up and stay indoors. If my Father had been more discerning and less ambitious I would not be here on the otherside of somewhere with the intention to wedge us a way out through being the businesswoman I am. I would not be a stranger pining for the sun behind the shades of the only window. I would not be stewing on my lack of necessary shoe! I would have more than a meagre collection of clothes, books and matches to keep me going in this hotel until I have the mindset to be financier and not misbegotten daughter.
 
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CardofTemperance

Sunday Every Morning
On a visit to Rhy'Din this evening, later than anticipated, I struck the chance to hear reply from Mr. Grey who discussed the land with me. His highest offer is frighteningly low, and matches not close to a third of what I was willing to repent for.

I feel that I may be tried with this man. He looks about as stubborn as I.

A prescient seeming fellow. Endearing, and I can't say why, precisely.
 
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