It never feels enough to work toward a goal which will only benefit one. An experience is heightened, when it is shared. Laughter does not fill a room, when only one is producing it. Except, none of this was ever true for me. I have always preferred a solitary life.
There was a child who perished a very long time ago. The consumption got her. It got everyone right in the chest, and out with their lives. I would like to think that, had I not wasted a past life in being a plague doctor, I would have been alive to do just as much for the child as I did for plague victims. That is to say, I would have done nothing but stare at her while saying, “Such a terrible tragedy. A terrible tragedy, indeed.” The thing that made this child different, is that she had a wonderful mother who did not want her to feel lonely as a ghost. So, she visited the cemetery every night to read her a bedtime story. I am almost sure I am not making this up.
There are so many who claim to have witnessed a supernatural occurrence. They have had spectral visitations, and been victims of demonic trickery. One woman has even come forward to declare herself as Vlad the Impaler’s lover, swearing that he is the best she has ever had. And I think I am much neglected by otherworldly creatures lately.