4x-xx-xx ep24 The Niche of Doom

the time seems. The past will return and the stories of yesterday unfold. Listen to the weird circle. Out of the past, phantoms of a world gone by, speak again the immortal tale. The niche of doom. Will it never stop? This constant tapping inside my mind? Yes, I've listened into that same hopeless tapping for days on end.

I thought it would stop when I came to this rest home. Here in my room my husband sits on the edge of my bed, watching me, knowing my thoughts, feeding me horror, tearing at the fabric of my mind as a spider tears the wings of its prey.

My husband August Maray, my husband, my torturer, my captor, my murder. A woman has a right to live, to laugh, to smile and be happy, a right to love and be loved. And I was lonely.

I remember the day I was in the patio, attending to my tulip bulbs, talking to my maid Rosalie as I faded the earth. Oh madam, the garden looks just beautiful. Yes it does. I love this garden Rosalie.

It's the one thing in this entire dreary house I can call my own. If the tulip bulbs work as nicely as they did last year, perhaps Mr. Mehay will allow you to enter them the garden content.

I meant to ask him. Good day, Josephine. How are you feeling today? Well, I feel fine, August. I... I didn't expect you so early. You may go, Rosalie. Yes, sir. Anything I can do for you, madam?

No, nothing, my dear. Yes, madam. You're looking very well, Josephine. Very well. August? You have something on your mind? What is it? Orgis, I was wondering if you'd mind frightfully if I ended my tulip bulbs in the annual country exhibition.