"FWLS34" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

managed to dredge her out of the river," the cop replied, wiping
away his excess droll with a blue sleeve. "Keep your miscreants
out of our lavaways, alright? They're messy enough without you
dumping critters in 'em."

I slammed the door. Cops are the same everywhere, 'cept
here, they really do look like pigs.

I eased her form onto my couch, and looked around for some
blankets.

"I'm not cold," she said, in a shaky, but clear voice.

That was the biggest surprise I had gotten in my entire
stay.

*

I don't know what caused it, or how she climbed back up, but
the girl was back in the world of the sane now. Sometimes, it's
best not to ask about things like that. I stuck to normal topics
of conversation, and found out her name was Julie.

She lost her home when the rent ran out years ago, so I let
her stay here. It's not like I need the room. I talked my boss
into letting her handle the drive through window, and shared
incomes when hers started to run out.

We invested in education (hell has quite a few universities,
although the teachers are really a bitch) and aimed for a higher
job. Took a few dozen years, but it worked.

I got a degree in computers (it's kinda like demolition,
only not as subtle), she got one in architecture. Pretty
artistic, she was... probably part of her problem, since the term
starving artist can really apply here.

I keep talking about here as if I was supposed to be
somewhere else. I've found that out, living in hell... I'm not
an eff double-yoo 'el esser anymore. That's a lifetime behind
me, a really small chunk of my memory. Doesn't matter. Hell is
where I am. Once you get over that stumbling block, life becomes
a lot easier.

We made out in my junker after graduation night. I suppose
it was destiny, since we had been 'partners' as it were for so
many years, through thin and thinner. The wedding was shortly
after. Hellspawn really know how to party, you've got to give it
to them -- Stan even threw me a gala reception (he was my boss
now... I worked in town hall, on their 'nets, as jones@hell.com)