I am. I am. I am.

Esther is being entrepreneurial. In fact, she has set up a small booth in the Mansion foyer with a sign that reads:

Let Me Write You a Poem (Or Equivalent Prose)

Of course, she hasn't had any takers yet, so she's feeling a little discouraged. But no matter! The point is, she's there, sitting and looking very prim and proper.




Looks can be deceiving, though she herself may not realize that yet.

Esther has, well, only sort of gotten used to the Mansion and its ways. She's still frustrated by being stuck there - after all, she survived almost dying. Doesn't she deserve something better than a small room with a small window?

Still, she's thankful to be alive. One morning, when she opens her window and looks out over the Mansion grounds, the air comes in, shockingly cold, and Esther remembers - she's here, alive and awake and ready for anything. She breathes in and out, and sighs with a sort of strange contentment that probably won't last long, but hey. She'll take it.

She gets dressed, wearing slacks for once (she decided to try it out, as she is in fact, a very modern woman, thank you very much) and a pretty floral blouse. She makes her way downstairs, her saddle shoes tap-tap-tapping against the stairs.

"I feel very much in a good mood today," Esther announces, to no one in particular. "Is that strange? Should I be worried?"