We conspired to get Manuel to scout out the new arrival, and called him over. We gave him the task of finding out everything possible about him. Manuel, always trying to endear himself to us in the hopes of getting a little more, was eager to help us out. Manuel joined us at the dinner table later that day, and gave us the scoop: Jean-Marc was about to leave for a job in Colombia, and was touring Quebec on his bike before he shipped out. What kind of job? Manuel didn’t know. What did he do? Manuel didn’t know that either. Was he single? Manuel rolled his eyes, he didn’t ask. When Manuel realized we were about to kill him, he tried to placate us by telling us that he had invited this mysterious man to have supper with us. Things were about to get real!True to his word, our mystery man came to sit with us at dinner. He flashed us that beautiful smile, and we all melted and tried to find the words to introduce ourselves. He had a deep, rumbling voice which resonated to my very core. His. I felt an overwhelming lethargy that goaded me to stay in this place of misery, to forever wallow in my comfortable despair, and make dazed love to the creature beside me. But then I thought of Mom, and Lucilla, and even had a passing thought of Justina, and I took Sorrow by the hand, and led her limply to the door. She tensed suddenly. “Take me no further, Untethered One.” Sorrow whispered. I glanced to the side, and saw that we had passed the first poem before the mausoleum’s entrance. I gripped Sorrow’s hand firmly, struggled through the apathy that told me to stop, and dragged the Sentient to the next poem. “Stop!” Sorrow cried, but she was a weak woman. I dragged her past the next pedestal, and she shrieked terribly, splitting my ears with the sound. I winced through it, and hauled Sorrow the last few steps, feeling her shrill screams ringing in my skull. I could barely see the door I was reaching for, but I forced Sorrow’s hand to grasp it, fumbled with the knob, and hauled it.
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