I love it when she visits.

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Several of them.  I know when they are here.  Some of my... shows... draw them.  I think several have, of late.  Forgot to notice... was... thinking.

Don't do the titles.  No witch, as I have suggested before.  A child of messengers, no more, no less.  Most likely.  They know some things, suspect things anyway.  Who... really knows.  But, certain of my expositions draw them, collect them, pull them to see.  Evil, themselves, or me?

I was.  One of them certainly tried, then considered the secular.  Much as myself.  But the truth, if you seek it, pulls you in.  And the Truth... is not evil.  Or secular.  Which is why, sometimes, in spite of this or that, they... come, see.  They remember, this, that, me, and more.  I suppose, as a horseman, I will tend to evil, and secular.

Old evil does think I am a simple, manageable, evil.  They can't see around to God.  They are blind.  I would be, blind to them, if it weren't for being from the greater among them... the worse among them?  Something.  I can't be tricked, blinded, by what I was, after seeing both sides completely.  Funny thing is, I tell them this, and they still don't believe.

Questions, though.  Many.  Still with the "who are you!?!"s?  Yes.  Oh, they suspect.  They want to believe, this, and that.  Doubts.  Fears.  Oh, I... have some doubts myself.  If I really do suspect.  I can tell it is one or the other who is visiting.  One likes the one, the other remembers... the conversation.  She knew, then, that... I wasn't "Joe".

Yes.  This one.  It's... the idea.  You have no idea how many things should have killed me.  A slobbery big nickel every time, right out of a twenty spot.  Do the math.

Yes, I enjoy their visits.  Love?  I think so, from a distance.  If, too, entertainment.  Both ways, it seems.  What I presented before, was for them.  Their replies are for me.  I do enjoy.