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milliways_bar2004-09-21 08:58 am
missing5th.livejournal.com) wrote in milliways_bar2004-09-21 08:58 am
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As Anton Vowl gasps his last, his first sight is that of not a light, but of a door. His hand grasps a doorknob not of his own volition, and swings it outward to grant him a vision of what is within.
His first opinion is that of shock. "What? My soul's passing brings it to a bar, a pub? No choir? No pitchforks? What sort of post-mortal vista am I caught in?"
His first opinion is that of shock. "What? My soul's passing brings it to a bar, a pub? No choir? No pitchforks? What sort of post-mortal vista am I caught in?"
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