I think Mr Rochester
should have died in the fire. I think Charlotte Bronte was completely wrong
when she allowed him to live and marry Jane.
Will there be gnashing of teeth or merely shaking of heads
(either in disbelief or utter confusion)?
I’m in a very strange mood tonight, courtesy of seeing the
priestess close the book of my life and then massage my corpse with oil. (Oh,
and reading Poe in a state of extreme tiredness. Definitely not recommended.)
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