I am fine

But regardless of that fact, we are about to go to the hospital.  Erika assures me we will be fine, and that we need to go.  Any trauma to me can hurt the baby.  Also, this finger will probably need re-attached.

I woke up missing my finger.  It was resting on the night stand, next to a sprig of lemon balm.

The wound's been dressed, but now I'm being rushed out of my seat.

I do not like missing my left ring finger, but I would like being arrested even less.  I

This is Extra.  I have taken  the computer from her.  We are leaving now, no matter how much she flails at me.

Something odd

I don't believe Erika is being entirely straight with me.

I am fairly certain she is being followed by something as well.

Every once in a while it becomes...cold.  Freezing, even.  Colder than even winter should be.

Even more rarely, I catch sight of a little boy covered in a layer of frost.

And I, typically, when this occurs, I hear a nursery rhyme.

Of course, Erika tells me it is nothing, as she tells me everything is "nothing".  It is surprising the walls of reality themselves don't fall down around Erika or Extra or whatever her name is, given the amount of times everything about her is "nothing".