024 - [text]

[deductives]

A hounding color, silver's lesser sister
Has a breath along the way, a cease.
This public chariot yields a final pause
Like Schubert did in older annuals.
But this cross borne hit more than a note sooner:
And its travels are Frosted in path.

So another Gothamite leaves us with more questions than answers. I'm not sure if anyone could call themselves friends with Mr. Nygma, but he's gone, regardless. This was found carved into a table in his flat. He could have left a harder one, to be honest.

And yet, perhaps he's better off than us.

[And that's the closest he'll get to publicly acknowledging recent affairs.]

Feel free to solve it yourself.

Comments

text;

[deductives]

Your wardrobe tends to vary. I think you're safe.

[Of course she's caught on. Irene rarely disappoints.]

Yet not kind enough to fill the tank, apparently.

text;

[predominates]

Or to avoid insulting your own wardrobe.

[ since she does have a knack of wearing his. ]

The poor man. Do you think he's worse off?

[deductives]

[Oh, he ignores that, along with the memory of her wearing his coat.]

Gotham, from what I've been told, is barely more functional than here.