Reminders of the Past

As I sit in my room in Madrassa House, I wonder if somehow I knew that this was how it would end. That I would be alone.

I didn't intend for it to be like this. But circumstances dictated that I return. Maybe I always knew that I would. Maybe that's why I recorded so many memories.

I sit among them now, my memories. Every format imaginable. Some brushed in the finest calligraphy in my early diaries, audio files, even footage from the security camera I had in my shuttle on Serenity. I used to keep it recording 24/7, but none of the saved footage is of clients. That's one thing I always deleted. It's just another way of recording memories, of letting myself remember the old times. And as I sit, I wonder where all the time went.