Condensed Hope

Just that simple act of non-judgementally keeping a record, watching and waiting, waiting and watching.

 

On returning, Marcel found himself to be harbouring a strand or two of Rrose's hair, with just a touch of the blonde Mère UBU. Infrathin bleeds, apparently, seeps even, that past, present, and future, cross-infecting, perhaps?

 

Riverrun...

Done