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The Causeway, Thursday Evening
So ... this was it, then. She had a plane ticket with her name on it, graciously provided by Rube. She'd said good-bye. And she'd slipped out here in the dark. Reapers weren't supposed to have big fanfares or parties; they were supposed to live in the shadows ( Read more... ) -
Selkie Peak, Sunday Evening, Philosophy and Boone's Farm
George had known she couldn't stay here forever, as much as some part of her wanted to. It was like she'd told Rube; being her almost made her feel like she wasn't dead.
But she was dead, and she had obligations, and there was a plane ticket with her name on it. She couldn't bitch too much. Life wasn't fair, and death wasn't fair. That was all ( Read more... ) -
Room 408, Saturday Morning-ish
The first thing George noticed when he woke up was how horribly primitive this room was. The bed hadn't folded up like a toaster and popped him out. This certainly wasn't the Skypad Apartments, and none of the suitcases here turned into aerocars, either ( Read more... ) -
The Streets of Fandom, Thursday Evening
George had held it together when she had gotten a letter from her long-lost little sib, Jim. She had cried when Mason asked her who Daisy was, and she didn't even like Daisy. Okay, maybe she did. Sometimes. She didn't wish her dead or anything. So what. Shut up. And the school was thinning out, but the end of the world kept trying to happen here ( Read more... ) -
Room 408, Wednesday, Midday
Okay, George had missed work yesterday. When your roommate was your boss, that probably gave you a pass on getting fired, right? Seifer didn't seem all that strict ( Read more... ) -
End of the Causeway, Sunday Evening
George had had one last weekend, with her sister. Just one. It was more than she expected to ever get. She shouldn't be greedy and try to beg for more, now that it was over.
"I called a cab," she said. "It's waiting at the end of the Causeway. You're going straight to the airport. And you're going to get on your plane and not talk to any scary ( Read more... ) -
Room 408, Friday Night
It had been, as far as Georgia Lass could tell, just over two months since she'd left the island, assuming time moved the same and whatever else mumbo-jumbo hadn't gone screwy ( Read more... ) -
Savage Garden, Alcove B2, Sunday Afternoon
George had not received any Post-Its this morning. Or the previous morning. Or, honestly, any morning since she had packed up her things and moved from room 408 down to this ... cabin. Thing ( Read more... )