(Untitled)

[roadhouse_ellen]

Ellen Harvelle doesn't know her bar like the back of her hand. As folks like to point out sometimes, who goes around staring at the back of their hand like they're out to memorize it? What use'll that ever be

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[didntseeit]

"Welcome to Milliways," comments a woman at the Bar. Thirty, maybe. Hispanic with a mostly American accent, and there is a look there that hunters, con-men and cops get - watchful between the charm.

[didntseeit]

"Next time the door appeared, I shot my boyfriend before he shot me. Like he was going to if I kept on walking without this place here. You get fucked up timelines. Alternate worlds. See someone you know, and they might have a different story."

[roadhouse_ellen]

Sounds like something out of a bad movie.

So does the less than normal part of Ellen's life, if you ever heard it in passing. She'll cut the girl some slack.

(Doesn't even begin to mean she'll believe her straight-up.)

"How often's that happen?"