Corrine's been jittering for three hours now. She got up this morning with today's goal in mind, but it wasn't until a few hours ago that the giddy-stupid set in.
When did this happen again? Her initial effort had been to turn the TV off, leave the couch for the first time in two days, and go see Sand. Every time she went for the door something in
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There's no one in the room at the moment. In fact, the only thing that showed the room had been lived in recently is a "Entertainment Weekly" magazine on the mantle and a small box on the corner of the dresser.
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A peek, right? Not much to see. Corrine creeps over to the magazine, turning her head to read the different teasers on the cover. Pfft. Like we need more zombie movies.
The box. The box. Her head turns like she's reading something on the top of that, too. A hand reaches out and she tips it open.
!!!!
She snaps it shut and puts it rapidly back down. For a second, she can't decide whether to stay or go. She attempts another peek.
!!!!
The top page of the magazine rustles up in her wake. She slams the door and leans against the outside frame, grinning.
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"Hey, baby. Got work, or can I safely kidnap you for a while?"
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The truth is, with the entity came a strange sort of inspiration and deeper sight to a great many things. Corrine's still getting used to what that is and how much of that is hers. It's good to be back, and damn it's good just to be in his presence. "And, if I did," she adds, "It's because I was thinking of you. Which I was; when I could remember this plane at all."
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She giggles and leans over him, planting a kiss on his nose. "No, but I guess it's nice to know. You're still you." And whether he knows it or not, "I wasn't expecting anything less. Why, do you feel different?"
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