May the 17th

The sunset was beautiful last night. Swaths of orange and purple cloud, the blue sky and the faded greens and beiges of the mountains. Dust that misted the hills, creating a haze.

I shouldn’t have been taken in by the beauty.

Last night, among the wind and rustles, hidden in the train whistle, was another sound. So quiet and deep that I almost didn’t notice it. I woke and lay in my bed, half conscious. Something kept me in that state, tossing and turning until I stood and looked out my window.

Lights in the sky, more glorious than the most beautiful sunset. Between the stars, bright flashes of blue and gold, subtle sparkling grays, scarlet in all its shades.

And my doubts were destroyed. This is not a pleasant, welcoming group of women. They are dangerous, powerful figures that must be watched closely. Someone knows something and it is my duty to find out what.

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