All things considered, I have been well and kept out of harm's way for the most part. But I was there when the attack happened - with the huge Uncle Sam. Thankfully, someone helped me out of there.

[The house said a lot about his tastes and Bela respected that. She decorated her own place (or well, shared place) as much as possible, but Bela also understood that her housemates mightn't be fond of the things she liked.]

I just want to move past it. Like everything else that happens here.