Sammy had pretty much given up looking at the bookshelf these days. When he'd first arrived, there'd been a healthy assortment; nothing he'd have called literature, maybe, but a whole bunch of comics, the years of publications stretching far enough into the future to prove that the format wasn't a passing phase, some pulpy stuff, and a few good ( Read more... )

The island had done it again. Whether it was pure chance or benevolence none of them would ever know, but somehow, someway, the place had seen fit to give them all booze again ( Read more... )

This whole growing up thing has always been hard. It was hard back home and it's hard here on the island too, it's just hard in different ways. He doesn't have his family here, for one, and even if that makes it a little easier for Jim to find his own way, it's hard too. He misses them like he never thought he would. And here he has Cecily, too, ( Read more... )

It had taken him a couple of months, but when Sam Clay had turned in for the night on Thursday the 29th of January in what was apparently the year 2009, he'd found himself feeling pretty good about the turn his life had taken lately. Sure, he might have been sleeping on what was not so much a bed as a crudely sewn-together sheet stuffed with dried ( Read more... )

Whenever everyone pulled together to do something like this, Dale was reminded just why they had something to celebrate. Tabula Rasa has begun as just a handful of people on an empty beach and everything it now was, was because of its residents pulling together and making something of their mutual situation ( Read more... )

( That morning, at Penn Station... )