Dear Jorge...

Dear Jorge,

I know you're never receive this letter considering I'm hundreds of years ahead of you in the past. Perhaps if I leave it in the general area of our old stomping grounds you will find it.

It feels like an eternity since I've been home. You will never believe what has happened since I saw you last. I'm back in that place I told you I came from! I know you didn't believe me when I told you about it, but I'm really here. There's magic, and a scary cyclops, Jesus freaks, and these crazy indian people who eat babies...I don't know how I got here. After I got that piercing headache by the Plaid Pantry, I woke up in this glass box thing, and you'll never guess who was there. My ex! I remembered what you said about guys like that, that I shouldn't associate with them and I could do better, so I fought him off best I could. Turns out, he didn't like that much and kept me captive in his basement for weeks. I guess he felt sorry for me and after many arguments and a deal with some other gypsy, he let me free. It felt like forever since I had fresh air, the sun on my face, and a hot bath. There was no way I was leaving that house, which we call the Rhyme, without being prepared. I really was bent on keeping good graces then sneaking out to disappear among the masses, but you know how I like the badguys. It was really awkward for awhile, him wanting to be around me but not knowing how, and me falling into the old habit of being doe-eyed. I really wish I had more control over that, really.

Now it's gotten to the point where he totes me around town showing me off. Barely any of the people I knew before recognize me or acknowledge my existence, even though they walk right past me. Perhaps they don't recognize me? Then there's times that he's out on business and I'm left to wander alone. Last week I decided to call upon the old Seers I used to know. I personally never liked them much, but considering I never really had the Sight myself, it was worth checking into. Remember that creepy carnival I told you about? There's this ghastly lady named Madame Zeena, and she's mostly a lout, but she gave me a some-what genuine reading. She gave me the usual trivialities that tellers usually feed people, then she went into this blank-faced trance and told me in so many words that my life is going to suck and to just wait for it all to come crumbling down. Nice, eh? I never really believed this lady before and I wasn't about to now, so I got a second opinion from this Teller named Madame Decara. She lives over by where Aladdin hangs out. I know you're rolling your eyes at that, but it's true. Anyways, Decara is a bit more genuine, a bit more in touch with the Sight, and when she took my money and told me that my life is going to be grand, beautiful, and full of surprises, I was taken aback. What am I supposed to do with two contradicting fortunes?

So I wandered around awhile, trying to make sense of all that has happened. I even tried to find Sea-at-tel, at least the place it is now in this time. All I found were some natives who were fishing off what will later be the docks where we would to throw Alka-Seltzer at the seagulls. I wish there was a way for you to get this letter, Jorge. You truly are missed. Give my love to the Derelicts.
-Zeph
aka Lime

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