Very alone. One day, while weeping in the convent, and washing the now pure golden floor with her mystical tears, a gypsy passing outside heard her cr...ing. ‘Ho! Ho, in there!’ The old gypsy called out. ‘Who cries?’ Nausea Mundane appeared between the golden pillars of the convent, weeping uncontrollably. ‘It is I, Nausea Mundane.’ The gypsy took one look at her, and frowned. ‘Truly you are named for what you are.’ The girl, Nausea Mundane, wept harder. ‘Ahhh, yes… weep. Weep for what you cannot. "I sighed in despair, unable to deny how I'd abused his hospitality."We were both drunk," I excused, realising how hollow my words sounded. "I promise you that nothing like this will ever happen again." I know it won't happen again," he replied coolly."Okay," I replied in sheer relief that he hadn't decided to resort to violence."We're all grateful for what you've done for us. The village will certainly benefit greatly from your contributions."I detected an undertone of malice and wondered. More

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