Verity has lead a life of mischief in the eyes of those who see. London has turned their cheek, forced against their will by the Leader. This is a story of many things most enjoy: love, life, and total annihilation of a tyrannic government.
Upon fi...
I find myself feeling aleviated as I ready myself for work, rinsing my hair off in a comfortingly hot shower. Aside from a headache, I feel wonderful. I pick out a simple black blouse to wear, with matching black boots and grey slacks to compliment.
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As I progress in preparation, I remember less and less of my dream from last night. But one thing is most definitely sticking.
That man... V, was it?
He believed just as my family did. The fact that he existed in my dream was simply my mind playing games with me. But a fact I learned long ago lingers in the back of my head.
One who notices a stranger in their dreams has never gone without seeing that person within their lifetime.
Which means, I most definitely had to have seen that man somewhere before.
And his mask... it was the like of my grandfather from 414 years passed.
I find myself boggled by this fictional being, understanding it was all merely a dream due to my being able to make it home without a trace of memory from the trip.
And if it weren't a dream, I may have never made it home.
I walk into work with a smile on my face, pushing a large cart of packages to the large dressing room behind Stage 3, wherein Gordon Deitrich films his own telivision show. I feel immensely unwell for having not met him for dinner last night, but I was utterly exhausted and couldn't keep my eyes open past nine o'clock.
