I wonder if Mr. Z ever made it off Tina’s islet over there,” she ponders, sipping on a cocktebeerl to try to soothe her still weak and rumbling stomach. Maybe we should start over and begin at that Art Box in the sim’s corner — see what else leads into the island. Perhaps fresh characters? May be too late for that. Only about 5 or 6 posts left in this here photo-novel, 31 in a series of… 31 in a series… *siiighh*.
She thinks back to the calendar opened up to February and what lay underneath it. Red. Lots of red. She spills her guts over the deck’s railing, carefully avoiding the flowers this time.
Later with her one good eye, she decides to find out.
Sunklands 