Baudelaire Academy

I reached into the small backpack in my lap, sorting through various pictures and toiletries, before I found a long forgotten cereal bar. As I ate I played with my hair and leaned on the window looking out. The streets were dark and relatively quiet. It was three in the morning, last time I checked, just about the only time there was no one awake at least somewhat. Andre would love a place like this, even with the accident spoiling the memories of places like this. “Ashefault”. That’s our stop.