Good grief… today was hard… seeing Engberg. Rough. No one cares about this more than he does. No one grieves harder or longer or deeper than he does. No one.

The man who once chased a group out of the pub because they could get themselves hurt…sat motionless in the darkness, the silence, in front of a small memorial to Wheely and Rosette.
Cate made a short speech. Then opened the barriers. People flooded Michael. Left him no room. It felt horrible. I carefully made my way to the memorial with my little contributions… a dozen roses for each girl and a small branch from a willow tree… put them beside the others.
Now he’s gone too… He went to the Shaft… No one really knows what happened, but they’re hoping for the best. Either he’s gone looking for Watson… or he’s gone… and he’s found Wheely.


What was it Mark Twain’s daughter said when his wife died? “It will be a long time before anyone laughs in this house again.”

It will…god, it will…

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