‘ oh, look - you’re still here. ’ tone holding only the slightest hint of an accent, the girl pauses with her hand on the door. she’s come to drop off papers, retrieve her scarf, and withdraw from office life for the weekend. getting shanghaied into a conversation about turn-of-the-eighteenth-century funeral habits isn’t part of the agenda. ( it’s not as if she hasn’t had enough of that to fulfill several lifetimes, anyways. ) ‘ i have the photocopies you asked for, although why you would want anything by kant is beyond me. he has been, quite literally, written to death. ’ // @starchillcd