part 337 christmas in july miracles

[aphanon_meme]

Meme! I almost thought I would never get to make a new post and say "Meme!! He updated! He really really updated! (which I'm sure most people in the fandom know by now!) In case you missed it JUST LOOK AT THIS. My goodness. A true, real Christmas In July miracle. ...... Wait it's August.

I feel silly now.

ENJOY PART 337!

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[(Anonymous)]

maybe I'm horor drabble anon!

--

It began on the day that Germany looked at his bureau and saw a hat sitting there. A bowler hat, simple, made from dark brown suede. Fine quality, probably expensive. But he did not buy that hat. He did not remember buying it, he thought-which he would remember, he reasoned, because he did not wear bowler hats. They made him look too old-fashioned.

It was a strange feeling, to see that hat. But he shrugged it off like a dusty cobweb and went about the rest of his day. There was no point in wasting time getting worked up over a hat, which he probably bought, perhaps when he was drunk, or maybe Prussia put it there as a joke. It was, after all, just a hat.

But the hat was only the start of things, after all. And at the start of things, it is never quite as worrisome as the end of things.

One morning, he woke up to the sound of an alarm clock he did not own. And yet there it sat, on his shelf.

One afternoon, he found himself walking into a restaurant he hated. He knew he hated it, as he walked up and asked for a seat. He knew he hated it, as he sat down and ordered. He knew he hated it, as he ate--and yet he continued.

One evening, he found himself flipping through his address book and saw numbers he did not know. Women. Men. Businesses.

Little by little, bit by bit, he was forgetting things that he must have done. Booking a hotel. Meeting a woman. Arranging reservations. Kissing her and--well. Little by little, bit by bit, he was rearranging his life. Excusing himself from World Meetings. Excusing himself from former friends. Snapping when he would have patience; having patience when he would snap.

On the very last morning, at the end of things, he woke up to his alarm clock, kissed the cheek of his wife, and walked to the full length mirror in their shared home. He put on his bowler hat and smiled at the reflection, which seemed a little shaken, a little afraid. He was new, now.