we served a purpose, like a bloody circus;

[ladyfair]

Bam! You're dead.

Well, it might not have happened with a bam or a bang--maybe just a whimper. Afterwards, some psychopomp or another grabbed your hand and led you here, to this awkward waiting room on the astral plane.

There's stale coffee and some mediocre donuts. The chairs are moderately comfortable, and the paintings on the wall are pretty but somewhat unsettling.

Every so often one of the gods' messengers shows up and fetches someone to take them to their proper place in the afterlife.

It's kind of boring.

Comments

[pummelgranite]

[ She still wants to gulp down her drink, but instead runs her finger around the rim. ]

Nuh uh.

[motherloving]

[ He hesitates for a second. He bites his lower lip, and he actually looks uncertain of what he's about to offer for just an instant.

Then he smiles brightly. ]

You can be someone new.

[pummelgranite]

Little late to be anyone, innit?

[motherloving]

[ He wrinkles his nose in dismay. ]

What a fatalistic outlook!

[ He pauses, though, and looks a little more subdued for a moment. ]

It's true that it's a bit late to be Laura anymore, I'm afraid. Of course, you could still try. If you wanted to. But I hear being a ghost who can't let go is terribly dreary.

[pummelgranite]

Hard pass. Clingy's not my thing.