Can it ever be called home,
When you’re out on your own.
No matter how long the road,
You’re always left to carry the load.
Lonesome Road by Tommy Deniro
Released 1961
Walking is so dreary, so mundane.
I plod pedestrianly towards the Dirge, not wanting to risk taking to the sky and be noticed.
With Rooks filtered out onto street corners around the centre of town, I wonder how they would view me? An Ultra, a Sub or something else? This is not a question I want them to answer, so I keep a low profile even while lumbering my shield closely by my side.
With precious little sleep over the last few days I finally meander into the Dirge. It must be past midday, my grumbling stomach lunch alarm would be audible to anyone else walking past but I doubt that I am the only one going hungry ar
