for Eachstilledbody

[msadler]

Having a new assistant did prove to streamline her business again, it did not streamline the rest of her life though. Not when their working relationship was so unconventional and complex as Irene and Andrew's was. Most nights found them sharing a bed, while Irene reassured herself that it was just because it helped with her nightmares and not at

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[eachstilledbody]

At least six dead in series of reported suicide bombings

"I don't know what I feel like."

David Bowie's body cremated in New York, say reports. Huh. Quite an existential headline. Andrew supposes that once you die, your body simply becomes something that once belonged to you, wherever 'you' now are. Although, perhaps that is true when you are alive as well.

[msadler]

"You're always so brilliantly helpful where dinner is concerned." Irene tugs out her phone to send a text to the manager of the Chinese place down the street from her home. She's on a first name basis with basically everywhere that delivers.

"We've not had Chinese in a while, shall I order what you had last time?" She's not as caught up in the existential crisis he's having at the moment, Irene is still thought to be dead by most of the people who she once knew.

[eachstilledbody]

He didn't know her before she was dead. She is the healthiest dead person he's ever seen.

"Mmm-hmm."

[msadler]

She sends the text, ordering what they had gotten last time. Then she gets up to go move that bloody newspaper to sit in his lap. It almost feels wrong to not be touching on some way, even if it's just legs touching while sitting together.