(no subject)
There used to be a picture on the outside of a certain door off the Staff Wing -- a bridge in the middle of a city. Kaylee has her palm pressed flat to the door. What's beyond is empty space, she knows: the lights are off, and nobody's home. Eddie and Susannah -- she wants to tell them. Tell them what she saw, what it was like. How there wasn't anything that clicked into place because -- because existence clicked. That like Susan said, it was more.
Given by the Tet Corporation, in honor of Edward Cantor Dean.
(Maybe she cries a little outside their door, but it's more out of gratitude than sadness.)
By the time Kaylee emerges from the Staff Wing, Peter's long gone -- they'd talked a little out by the lake, but you can't talk much if there's not really a way to put words to what just happened (and if you both understand it anyhow) -- but she's still here.
I'm here, she thinks. Look at that.
A few minutes after that she's sitting on a couch with a cup of good, strong, sweet coffee, and she can't quite stop smiling.
Given by the Tet Corporation, in honor of Edward Cantor Dean.
(Maybe she cries a little outside their door, but it's more out of gratitude than sadness.)
By the time Kaylee emerges from the Staff Wing, Peter's long gone -- they'd talked a little out by the lake, but you can't talk much if there's not really a way to put words to what just happened (and if you both understand it anyhow) -- but she's still here.
I'm here, she thinks. Look at that.
A few minutes after that she's sitting on a couch with a cup of good, strong, sweet coffee, and she can't quite stop smiling.