The idiots came again.
(sigh) They come every year with their strange devices, their loud voices, and their annoying questions.
I don’t like them. They don’t seem to understand that I am not interested in playing their parlor games. All I want to do is stand here in my corner in my fine black dress and mourn my losses. I will admit that isn’t a fun occupation, but it is all I can do.
If I could answer their questions, I would. If only to make them run away. (sigh) I suspect they wouldn’t run away. They would become over-excited and invite their friends and pester me into performing for them again. And THAT is something I will not do.
I will wait them out.
They will leave as they always do, speaking of cold spots and dark energy and other such rot.
None of them will see me standing here.
Standing here in my corner in my fine black dress.