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It's my birthday apparently.

It's hard to treat it as such when I've only just arrived and it wasn't April according to the calendar on the Avalon. The last birthday I'd celebrated hadn't really been a birthday, either, but instead a celebration of my awakening on the ship which turned out to be anything but worth celebrating. It's hard not to think about that day today and how if Arthur hadn't let it slip, I could have spent a lifetime believing what happened to Jim and I was fate.

I don't know how I feel about fate and I don't know how I feel about birthdays. I don't feel any older and I certainly don't feel any wiser. At least I feel stronger. My hands have all but healed and the pain in my arm is gone. Soon, I think I'll start running. I've only bought a few supplies so far, some shirts and dresses. I still need something for exercise.

And a bathing suit. 

Maybe I'll treat myself to that today – even if it's an arbitrary date and I don't know how much impact it has on my biological age.

I'm thinking just that, about treating myself, when I pass a bakery and spot a cupcake. In my head, I can hear the robots singing.

Happy Birthday, dear Aurora...

I shake my head as if I can shake the memory away with it and go in.

[Dated 27/4, find her shopping, at the bakery or just eating a cupcake. Open.]


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Aurora Lane

August 2017

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