(no subject)
Irene enters the bar, pushing a handcart loaded with empty cardboard boxes, and disappears into the staff wing.
She comes back a couple hours later, and the cart is significantly heavier. Her expression is, too.
Before she leaves she moves her notice to the top of the bulletin board again, and leaves a seperate letter and package for the administration.
My name is Irene Tassenbaum. As you may have read by now in my other letter, I was a friend and employee of Eddie and Susannah Dean. If you have not yet read my other message, you should now--you can ask the bar for it.
I've finished a clean-up of Eddie and Susannah's room on behalf of the Tet Corporation, and distributed some of their belongings according to the will Susannah left. Eddie did not leave a will, and I've left some things I thought should be distributed in the hopes that someone here might know better than me what to do.
All their furniture remains in the room, as well as Susannah's hovering chair. Perhaps someone else with a disability can get some use from it. I think she'd like that.
Thank you.
The box contains a couple dozen cheap paperback novels, mostly horror novels by Bill Denborough, and two loose-leaf binders of hand-typed stories. One is of fairy tales, and one is of short stories of gritty urban drama. On top is a hand-sized circle of stained glass, a replica of the rose window in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City.
She comes back a couple hours later, and the cart is significantly heavier. Her expression is, too.
Before she leaves she moves her notice to the top of the bulletin board again, and leaves a seperate letter and package for the administration.
My name is Irene Tassenbaum. As you may have read by now in my other letter, I was a friend and employee of Eddie and Susannah Dean. If you have not yet read my other message, you should now--you can ask the bar for it.
I've finished a clean-up of Eddie and Susannah's room on behalf of the Tet Corporation, and distributed some of their belongings according to the will Susannah left. Eddie did not leave a will, and I've left some things I thought should be distributed in the hopes that someone here might know better than me what to do.
All their furniture remains in the room, as well as Susannah's hovering chair. Perhaps someone else with a disability can get some use from it. I think she'd like that.
Thank you.
The box contains a couple dozen cheap paperback novels, mostly horror novels by Bill Denborough, and two loose-leaf binders of hand-typed stories. One is of fairy tales, and one is of short stories of gritty urban drama. On top is a hand-sized circle of stained glass, a replica of the rose window in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City.