I had a dream where I was behind glass, flying and flying along with the rest of the warnings. Monk, Anthropomorph, Dog, Harpy, Devil, and Plant monster were all there. Many gates, all protecting one another in spiteful rows. It felt like a place very near here, and somewhere I never go. All of a sudden there was a pen attached to my wing, that started a tricky move like one I remember before the joining of seasons...
If no sickness is, O God, what fele I so?
And if sickness is, what thing and which is she?
If sick be good, from whennes goeth my baleful thought? But if that I consente that it be?
And if that I consente, I dutyfully
Allas! what is this wondre maladie?
→ A weekly new chapter of Adrienne Herr’s accompanying text flight log can be downloaded from here: https://www.dropbox. com/sh/sa9jta8j80ky6be/AAADRAvB70LTMUBgKk1D- YNea?dl=0