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[devilsfiddler]

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[unpetitcoup]

You will? You mean to recover? To stay?

Perhaps we will always be a pair of lost children. But I don't think our rage is alike. Then again, rage never suited either of us very well.

[devilsfiddler]

You know me better than that, cher.

Am I a fool to entertain the notion that our next conversation might center on the concept of rage and how ours might never quite compare?

[unpetitcoup]

Doomed by the narrative it seems.

My beloved Nicki, we could speak for an eternity about the ways we might never quite compare. I'll entertain the notion.

I wish I could see you. To know you're not a ghost and that I'm not going completely mad.

[devilsfiddler]

But trésor, I am a ghost and you've always been completely mad. Don't ruin the facade by asking how the act works now.

And do please tell me you won't be writing a new narrative for publication that includes me in it. Your first book was more than enough.

[Yeah, but he was in line to buy the first copy, wasn't he?]

[unpetitcoup]

Do you use terms of endearment to mock me? If I'm just a mad man raving to a ghost, then I'm afraid you won't get much satisfaction haunting me.

You read it! You don't like that I included you? I never thought-

If I had known, I would have sent you a signed copy.

[Deflecting is easier than facing the maelstrom of emotions threatening to pull him down into the depths at the simple realization that Nicki read his story.]