"You've certainly seen better days."

I sat up, rubbing the grit from my eyes.

"It looks as if some bird has been nesting in your hair." Her voice was stern but her eyes were warm. "You passed out in the middle of my take on that book of yours. I couldn't get a world in after that, with you snoring like some Albanian field wench."

"Did you get a chance to read it?"

"I did."

"What do you think?"

"Eh. Was I really so mouthy in those days?"

"You were. It's even worse in the movie."

"The movie? Oh dear. Now who'd want to watch a movie about my life? It's one disaster after another."

"You'd be surprised. Even after all this time, it's still ranked number one on the imdB list. The Great Fire destroyed all the records but I could tell you that that was the case."

"Hmph. You all have such strange taste. I do hope I was dressed the part."

"You certainly were. Your costumes were in a museum, you know."

"Even that whorish gown?"

"That was one of the most famous pieces," I said, grinning. "Although it was red in the movie."

"Fitting. Perhaps I'll give it a watch. I'll have to go back in time for that, though. People don't watch movies anymore."

"But what a tale it was! I almost admired the girl. For all her antics, she was almost likeable at times. Melly was an angel as she always was and Sue was almost as bad as I had remembered. And India, poor India. The girl never had a chance after her mother died. She was one of the last ones, you know. Towards the end, we joked that she managed to live so long because she was single."

"She definitely has a way with words, this M-woman: the prose just slides off the tongue; at times she's as sweet as pie but more often she's as tart as a lemon. She truly got into our minds; I only wish there was more about him. So much of it was left up in the air, but perhaps it's better that way. You know, they say even a lifetime isn't enough for the pain to begin to go away, but what's a lifetime against all of eternity? I've made peace with them all, with my own mistakes and all of theirs."

"Have you?"

"I have and I will prove it to you." She folded her arms and leaned back into the chair, her eyes pointed to the ceiling.

"Let's see: Mammy, she had a stroke one Sunday night; it was right after supper and she just fell over while doing the dishes. Prissy screamed loud enough to wake the dead. We buried her out in the back, not too far from where that Yankee lay. They all insisted on engravings for the stone and I had more than enough money for that, but I didn't see the point. I never understood why funerals were so expensive; one box is the same as another but I'm digressing...and then there was Rhe-oh, but I already told you what happened with him. I do apologize, my memory must be going. And Ashley, poor Ashley. He was a mess after Melly died; he just couldn't let the bottle go, not even for his son; Beau found him stretched out across Melly's old bed. It took three men to pull him away."

"And as for Wade: after his stepfather left, he developed quite an angry streak. I didn't know Charles had such fire in him. He had just turned eighteen; I remember because he had just gotten his admissions letter from Harvard and he decided to go out with his friends to the local bar. He was racing his horse down the alleyway and collided with one of his mates and was thrown from his saddle and broke his neck. I shot the horse myself. But Sue, Sue was strong; even while growing up she never caught a cold but medical care wasn't what it is now back in those days. Nowadays, when the babe is in breach, the doctor would recommend a c-section but in my time, if the babe decided to come out feet first, you'd better hope the midwife was able to get the babe back on track but she couldn't so Sue died and the babe with her. I'm sure I had never seen Will in such a state; even Careen couldn't do a thing."

She ran a finger across her upper lip, her brow furrowed in deep thought.

"Am I forgetting anybody? Oh, that's right! Beau, he packed his bags after his father died and left for England. No one ever heard from the boy again." She lay in repose, dryly reciting the docket of death and pain like a bookkeeper discussing his ledger. "Ah! How could I have forgotten about Ella? Ella, my sweet girl: she lived up the ripe old age of 95, had a bad case of dementia though; she couldn't recognize me towards the end, although that was perhaps for the best. You see, I had to fake my own death. I left the two of them with Sue and Will."

"What do you mean?"

"How would it look? Me walking around, not aging a day while the rest of the town withered and died. They would have cut me open. I wouldn't say I was well-missed, so no harm done."

"But it must have been hard on them."

"The town was only too happy to see me go. As for the children, they cried for a few months but life has to move on and so they did."

"It must have been difficult, being alone."

"I had been alone all my life, even when I wasn't immortal. It's just the way things are in this world."

"I thought you didn't remember."

"I don't. That's the thing with an infinite life and a normal-sized memory: you forget things."

"You seem to remember a lot for someone who claims to have forgotten everything."

Those feline eyes flashed red.

"I'm baring my soul and you're sassing me. I should have you thrown out. But I won't. This is too fun and I have to admit, it's almost a relief, confessing everything."

"He re-married, you know, didn't even have the courtesy to send a letter. I had to find out from the town gossip. And for all he claimed to care for the children, my children, he gave the house to his bastard and the gold, or what was left of it, to the whore. When I think about that filth steeping foot in the house I built-" a flash of pain marred those fine features but just as quickly she sat up straight, her countenance as smooth as marble. "And so what if he did? I've had husbands before: I married over and over and over again and we did things that would have made that night look like a maiden's game. Of course, I had to leave each one before long; otherwise, they would have noticed my slowly aging body and my secret would have been out."

I grimaced. "But it was never quite the same, was it?"

"No, it wasn't. Marriage is never an easy thing, especially for a woman. But in those days, it was monstrous: a bit like the slave trade if you think about it. Young girls, barely blossomed, sold to men twice, three times their age and all but forced to suffer in silence. And I was one of the lucky ones; you should have seen what happened to poor Cathleen. The girl miscarried so many times that there was hardly any blood left in her body when she went. I suppose she just wasn't made to carry Yankee spawn."

I stared at my clasped, sweaty hands and she raised an eyebrow.

"You're not the first one. There was a line of women before you, even a few men. They all sat where you are sitting now, asking me what you were asking yesterday."

"I've been here for a week."

"A day, a week, a year, what does it matter?" she sighed. "It all runs out in the end."

"You've-you've seen it then? The end?"

"I have."

"What does it look like?"

She smiled gently. "It's not nearly as frightening as all of those foot-washers made it out to be. None of them felt a thing."

I swallowed and she tilted her head.

"Do you realize how insignificant we are in the grand scheme of things? We're just one tiny planet in a solar system that's barely out of its diapers. They say she's coming: the Big one. And she's due to hit any day now. But I'm sure you didn't know this before arriving."

"No. I-"

"So you did know? You don't strike me as the suicidal sort."

"You don't know how it's like back there, where I'm from-"

"My, my!" she exclaimed in mock horror, "Didn't you know suicide's a mortal sin! You can be killed for committing such a heinous act!"

"There are just too many things I'm sorry for and-"

"And you thought you could make it better by coming here."

"I've read and watched you. Surely you understand how it feels to be sorry."

"You'll have to remind me what that's like, feeling sorry. But I can tell you that there's no need because none of us are in the wrong; we're all the heroes of our own stories."

"So you've given up?"

"It took a while, but I've paid my dues."

"So this is how it ends?" I asked, throwing my hands in the air. "With you hiding in this reality bubble until the end of time?"

"And what else am I to do? I can't risk going out there; I might see some people."

I shook my head and she smiled again, but it was such a sad thing, the signature of a marked woman.

"I know what you're trying to say, but there's nothing left worth saving. That girl crying on those steps, she would have jumped at the opportunity, would have borne child after child if it would only change his mind but that girl is long gone."

The words were spoken calmly, quietly but even I could hear the finality, the cold echo in the halls.

"What do you do with all this spare time?"

She gave a careless wave and I saw it then, glinting in malevolence: a labyrinth of books covering the walls from floor to ceiling, as far as the eye can see.

"I told you I despised reading, but what is a person to do with all this time? I picked up a book and to my surprise, found that I couldn't stop. This is only a fraction of what I've read thus far and it appears that I will never run out. It's the only thing that keeps me going."

"What will you do then?"

She shrugged. "I suppose I'll have to find something else to occupy my time."

"But I wouldn't worry your pretty head about me. I'll be alright. I always am."

"I know, it's just that-"

"We all wanted things we couldn't have. My mother, she wanted to be a lady, tall and fair, holding her lover's child in her arms. But it just couldn't be. And the time will come when you have to accept that it just won't be so. She couldn't. They all couldn't and it led them to their graves. I had the same conversation with my daughter just before I left."

"What did she say?"

"Who knows? That was one conversation I failed to write down."

"There wasn't a sequel, was there?"

My head jerked up. "What?"

"For the book."

"Well, there was one but-"

Her smile broadened. "It was no good, wasn't it?"

"No," I admitted.

She laughed and the wind quavered and moaned in response.

"What now?"

"I suppose we wait until the storm ends."

She poured herself another glass and even filled mine. "Why don't you tell me your story while we wait?"

"Well," I started carefully, sitting up. "It's a long one so I want to make sure I get it right."

The clock struck twelve.

"I wouldn't worry about that. We have all the time in the world."

I took the proffered glass and had a sip. The flames crackled and whispered and my heart felt buoyant and safe.

"Where to begin, Scarlett-"

This is my Christmas gift to you all; I hope you enjoy! It's been a hard year for me and GWTW provides an escape. I'm out of ideas at the moment, so I'm excited to see what you think! I'll see you all in 2021.