.. all of that crap. It
would have to be this.... stuck in-between the two possible answers to
the question... whether this had all happened for a purpose or had all
just happened.
Nuts, she thought. I bet it's one of those. I wouldn't be lucky
enough to have this turn out to be just a regular, old-fashioned,
story. The kind that people actually read. Then it would at least
have an ending. Nothing to figure out. All in-your-face, like
television. A movie would be better, though... at least there'd be a
budget. Hopefully a good soundtrack, too. Who would play her and
Uncle Justin? Would the director cast real actors or some muscle-bound
and double-D bearing gimps who would have a few lines of dialog between
shoot-outs? Would it even matter? Because, Julia noted, the light was
getting larger... and brighter. Cecil was lost from sight.
Great, I'm about to meet God. Or just wake up. Or just keep going
like this forever. Great choices. I suppose if it's all been a
comedy, I just wake up right there next to Auntie Em. If it's a
tragedy, I'm dead, right? That's how they all have to end -- it's in
the union rules.
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