View source for STNO07 (Mar 30, 2020)

<span style="font-size: 40px;"><strong><center>STNO07</center></strong></span>
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<h1>Summary of Receipt</h1>
<span style="font-size: 20px">Summary</span>
<h1>Transcript</h1>
<span>### EMPLOYEE NO. 512
DATE: 3-30-2020
FILE REFERENCE: STNO07
TOTAL: $0.7

We had a bit of Miss. Carleton left over, so I thought it might be a good idea to get a taste of how she experienced the Big Easy. I’m not sure if it’ll be much help for us, seeing as our business is done here, but it was worth a shot, right? It was… interesting, to say the least. Parts of what I felt were both familiar and abstract. Sea, sky, and land… how involved was Miss. Carleton with Quebec? Regardless, Miss. Carleton left a horrible bitter aftertaste. Mm… almost like coffee but not quite… it was nutty and herbal. Like a tea—but what kind?

<i>ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚</i>

<b>MISS. CARLETON BLOOD SAMPLE</b>

<i>In the heart of an ancient city swallowed by the sea, shadows of forgotten deities lurk and linger. The depths of this city are shrouded not in water but in whispers and shadows, the kind that weave through the mind like silk—soft yet unyielding. Sunken spires and drowned wisdom stand silent, knowledge locked behind doors of coral and pearl. Anything that is can come to an end. In this place, time flows like treacle, slow and thick. Echoes of the past hum softly like a melody lost in the currents. Stalking the streets, eyes like lanterns in the abyss, searching for the pale moonlight. Anything that is can come to an end. The world above, where the sun burns too bright and the air chokes—there is a mirror, and its surface was smooth and unblemished by the passage of time. I can see myself in it, a pale reflection, an insignificant piece of a greater whole. Anything that is will come to an end. Anything that Is is in and at an end. The Pale—the first—her precious daughter—I think I hear a baby crying—I will not open the door. I will not open the door. I will not open the door. The room—was awash in sea-green wallpaper with faded flowers peeling from the wood—a pale promise made to see everything that Ys destroyed. Alone. Alone. Alone. No one had to die ever again. I am coming home—I am coming back to the shore, the sea, and the sky.</i></span>