I don’t want to get up. Why would I even think about it, at four AM on a Saturday? I don’t know. Something just calls. Scorpio, it whispers, Come to me. Come to me, and آپ will be free.
Who are you? Where do I go? I call out sleepily. The shout is only in my head, but I feel it goes out into the darkness all the same.
You will know, Scorpio. آپ will know what to do. Go to the river, it beckons. So I teeter down the stairs, fully clothed, in a dreamlike state.
What kind of crazy person am I? I ask myself. Not an unreasonable question, considering...
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