"When you travel, rather *wander* as much as I do, you learn to think fast. You learn to be on your feet, and hardly comfortable. I don't really have too much time to think, much less write in this old ratty journal. But thank the stars, I do tonight. It's a nice night, too. I'm writing this under moonlight, we know how rare that is. I've recently picked up a kid, Colin. He came back from The Edge. We both know how problematic that is, huh? Well, right now I'm working on it. It involved opening my curio "cabinet". We know, the one with all the plates, tapestries, etc, etc. The one with *the tapestry.* He stared at it for a while, but I don't think he knows about that city. It's got me remembering, though. The city of my childhood. (How long have I lived? Is she even alive?) I still remember every street we ran through, all the people who lived there. It was a paradise. I've wandered through other cities after I was banished, but none were quite as beautiful or perfect as that one. I could've run forever. I still remember my lover's face too. She is a moon, perfect and timeless. (Time. I no longer exist in it. I'm older than everyone I've ever met. How old is she?) I wish I could have told her before I left. Why did I even leave? I, I can't remember. To find something, I think? (I've forgotten, does that mean it even matters?) Ah, even a timeless creature like me is still swimming in it. I wish I could go back to that rose-tinted time. Even I know I cannot, no power in all the realms cannot bring me back. It is the nature of our lives to be lived in stages, seasons. (Many religions use this.) Alas.
Colin has come up onto the deck to watch the stars with me. I suppose I am done writing for now."
-An entry from a Wanderer's journal.
