I'd Rather Go Blind

1st August 1958

The living have a saying, dear diary, about being in Limbo. For the many years that I presumed it to be a literal reference to the place, it didn't mean anything -- but now I understand it. If one is figuratively 'in limbo', they are in a place of near-torturous ambiguity, and cannot foresee a date for their release.

That is how it feels waiting for Alastor to call!

The more I thought back on our first hounding, the more worried I became. What if I somehow intimidated him with barbarity? What if my faux-pas hurt him more than he dared show? So many things could have gone silently and disastrously awry -- his "Take care" as we parted might have been the final goodbye! It was agony, dear diary. I felt myself pulled in two directions, between the phone and his usual haunts, through which I could perhaps innocently perambulate, just to catch another glimpse of my sweetpea.

Two nights later, I had a call and got excited, but it was only a friend, thanking me for my continued service of punishing Dogbone. I should have been pleased, because she promised to get me invited to the next event of Lucifer's... but I was merely angry that she wasn't Alastor.

Finally he did call, and his cheerful hello was more soothing than the Balm of Gilead!

"You're in a good mood!" I said.

"I am!" he replied. "You know what is it? I have to thank you for Friday night -- boy, did we pass a good time! I hadn't really hurt someone in so long, darling! It felt so good!"

I hummed in agreement. "Like taking off a corset!" I said.

"Well, I wouldn't know about that!"

"Oh, I'll teach you sometime," I joked, teasing out the phone cord. "You know me, I'm an excellent teacher."

Awkward chuckles, and we moved along. One thing I have learned about Alastor is that he's terrible with innuendo. Double entendres confuse him, especially those of a suggestive nature. This solidified my belief that Alastor cannot be that way inclined: surely that kind of lifestyle trains one to give and receive the subtler signs of interest, as a means of survival.

No, I believe that Alastor is just a slow-mover... but I am used to that! Moving slowly is baked into my upbringing as a lady, though deep down, I'm always ready to move leaps and bounds ahead. Poor Rosie; she should have been a succubus! All this to say: Alastor and I are momentarily locked into a game of chess. Of course he is worth the wait! My heart bloometh like a rose, and endureth like a weed.

"I'm glad you called," I admitted -- because taking chances with Alastor has paid off before! "Forgive me dear, but sometimes... I'm afraid of how I appear to others, when all I want is to be decent and courteous to them. Alastor? If you ever liked me, please say how I appear to you."

A moment of silence that made my stomach lurch -- but he was only collecting his thoughts. "No need to be a gloom-face!" he told me. "You're a surprising woman -- in many respects! To look at you, I thought we'd never get on, but no, you've been gay, industrious, well-meaning... and strong!" He laughed. "Unfairly strong! Take me to the man who doles it out amongst sinners; I want a word!" Then we both laughed. "But we shall have to pass more time," he went on, "before I give a full impression! And what was your opinion of me, darling?"

The things I could have told him!

"Well, you were well-spoken," I said, "confident, distinguished. Yet something told me you were hiding vulgar feelings -- feelings that can only belong in this colony. You're done hiding it now. One of these days, you shall become a force to be reckoned with, just as you deserve!"

He liked this answer, and I heard him affect his radio voice once more. "Let's do something again," he said. "How's Friday? Let's go pick on someone!"