May. 11th, 2007

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Atton's rubbing his eyes when he heads outside (there was a pink elephant inside. He thought, for a moment, that he might've had too much to drink, but he feels sober enough), not looking where he's going. He'll crash into a tree, at the rate he's going.

He doesn't hit a tree, though. He hits a chair.

Quite finely made, at a small table with candles and wine.

... Huh. He wasn't expecting to see that.

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Atton Rand

August 2012

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