<div style="background-color:#c6b588; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><div style="background-color:#DFD5BC; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><img alt="" src="http://i.imgur.com/lDq9h9u.png" style="float:right; padding:6px;"/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #151515"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-family: Edwardian Script ITC;"><span style="font-weight: bold">F R A N C O I S</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #303030"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-family: Edwardian Script ITC;"><span style="font-weight: bold">Religion lied to you - the afterlife consists only of bothering me.</span></span></span></span><span style="color: #DFD5BC">_______________</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #2e2e32"><div style="text-indent:1em;">The hands that grasped his face were gentle, but tolerated no resistance, and Francois' eyes met a pair that were so startlingly like his own that for a moment he thought...</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">"<span style="font-style: italic">Maman?</span>" He whispered hoarsely. But no, that was not his mother, even if her eyes were the same warm brown and she made him feel just a little less terrified and in pain. It didn't last long before the train car lurched again and he found himself propelled into an awkward tackle of the old woman. The world was consumed by metallic screaming from the train, from himself, he didn't know. He held onto the woman as tight as he could, not caring that she was a stranger, only wanting some kind of stability, <span style="font-style: italic">anything</span>, in this haywire world he had found himself in.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">It stopped as abruptly as it began. Francois' arms were not wrapped around the strange woman anymore. Instead, they were lying on top on what he realized were a multitude of smooth pebbles, completely identical in every way save their size. He got to his feet. Black water lapped deathly at the stones, an endless <span style="font-style: italic">shhh, shhh, shhh</span> of waves. The grayness was everywhere. <span style="font-style: italic">This must be what depression looks like from the inside.</span></div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Francois turned. He had flown quite a way from the others. The train car lay like a beached whale, its passengers strewn around it. Relief of seeing the familiar blonde hair and vomit-stained jacket of Anna brought tears to his eyes. He rushed to her, briefly registering that there was also the old black woman and yet another unfamiliar person among them, before colliding with his friend who was only just getting to her feet. They clung wordlessly to each other, just trying to grasp the fact that they were both still alive and whole.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">"What happened, Anna?" Francois finally said, untangling himself and gazing at the indefinite horizon.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Anna shrugged, a helpless motion of both her shoulders. "I don't know. One minute there was this - this thing, you felt it too, right? And then there - there wasn't. And we were here." She, too, looked around. "Where <span style="font-style: italic">are</span> we?"</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">"Well, we're not in Kansas anymore," he replied drily.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">"We never were, Francois," she snapped at him, moving towards the unknown female. Francois chuckled despite everything.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">"It's an American thing, Anna," he replied as he walked to the old black woman who had seemed so like his mother. He crouched and held out a hand to her, searching for her eyes once more. "You all right, ma'am?"</div></span></div></div><br/><div style="background-color:#DFD5BC; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><ul><span style="color: #2e2e32"><span style="font-weight: bold">Notes:</span> <a class="postlink" href="https://soundcloud.com/disparition/analog">Listen</a>.<br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Tags:</span> <a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=110975">@Cotton</a>; <a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=111849">@Sojourn</a></span></ul></div></div>