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Liar she thought, observing the state of his injuries and the way his body was tensed, but she kept her posture as relaxed as possible to try not to put him off to the possibly bizarre questions she was about to ask.

"i'll certainly tell her. she would have come herself, but the workload the school has us on is painful, especially around finals."

Dahlilah! you Liar! she told herself. Honestly, the sight of Gregory so incapacitated had put off Heaven, no matter how much she had tried to talk to her about it.

She sat down in a chair a comfortable distance away from the man [[ie, all the way across the room]]. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Actually, i was hoping to talk about what happened to you... it seems i may have encountered a situation somewhat like yours, with similar -" she looked at him "if more pleasant outcomes."

Drat, what with all the formalities?. She shook her head. oh, to Hell with it. Which lead to her next thought, Again with the capitalizations of irrelevant and inanimate objects .

"I think there may be some obscure, underlying connection between my survival of a dangerous situation, and yours too. Yours may have been on a grander scale, but something is not right. You should be dead!" she said, slightly panicked, if blunt. "And so should I. I mean-" she stuttered. "The odds are so improbable they're nearly impossible" She decided to shut up. He probably thought she was a lunatic.

yes, he probably does, dear.
Inwardly, Dahlilah groaned. The last thing she wanted to do was get between Heaven and a potentially good relationship for her, instead of a fling.

"Sorry - i can leave now if you want"

Her impeccable posture fell slightly. So it wasn't the same. She decided to relate her tale anyways.

"Well, I was just walking through a parking lot the day you crashed, just doing normal things, listening to my mp3 - you remember the song Hey There Delilah? you look old enough - anyways, i was listening to that, then all of a sudden this car just swerves out and tries to run over me... i was running away but i knew for sure it'd catch up, then all of a sudden i just... something came upon me and I jumped probably about 10 feet into a stairwell, where it crashed into the concrete, then backed up and headed out..."

she rubbed her nose.

"it was the wierdest thing in the world..."

she thought for a second. "well... it's been very pleasant talking to you, Mr. Gregory, but i'd better get back to my apartment before Heaven catches it on fire."

She dashed out of the room before he could say anything

By the time Dahlilah had gotten back home, Heaven had left to go to work, and Dahlilah needed to change, grab her trumpet, and go to work too.


It was now night time, and The sky was an entrancing shade of deep blue, and completely starless as the city lights rose like Neon saviors into the twilight. Her trumpet in one hand, and a rather large book in the other [she was the bookish sort], she navigated the bustling streets.

Waiting to cross the street, she heard one of the crazed bible-thumpers that polluted NY yelling. I'm surprused she hasn't started speaking in tongues. Dahlilah thought. But a sudden phrase piqued her interest.

"THERE IS PROOF OF FREE WILL!" the heavy-set middle-aged man said "AND THE GOOD LORD LETS US DRAW UPON IT, AND WE CAN DECIDE OUR FATE!!! SCIENTISTS CAN PROOVE IT, FREE WILL AND THE GOOD LORD EXISTS! HIS SON JESUS CHRIST HAS SAVED US FROM HELLFIRE AND DAMNATION!" Dahlilah started to walk away when he pointed at her. "WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"

"Dahlilah."

"THE NAME OF A HARLOT, FOR SURE!" she simmered with rage. "DID YOU KNOW THAT GOD IS GREAT, AND HE LETS YOU CHOOSE YOUR FATE? FREE WILL! THANK THE LORD, DAHLILAH, HE HATH FORGIVEN YOU FOR YOUR SINS."

"What a wretched time to have the name Dahlilah" she muttered, before walking off.

The Cafe that Dahlilah was supposed to be playing at called her up. She answered her cell phone. "Dahlilah.... what? ... i'm here... yeah, on King... it's not on King? ... i'm at the one across the street?" She looked out, and it turned out, the one she was suppossed to be playing at was indeed, on the opposite side, less than a block down. "Be right there."

She hurried in. She saw a rather strange looking girl and paid her no heed. Strange looking people were usually creative and artistic.

Not even bothering to do a decent warm-up, she put in her mute [as to not blast away the patrons] and started to play light jazz, alternating with some spirtuals, some poppish songs, and some light classical. She was a very adept player, but classical proved her hardest genre.

Gregory couldn't find sleep. His mind would not rest. Thoughts soared through his head, and would skyrocket from one topic to another, which were most often barely tangible to the previous. Gregory opened his eyes and the room around him was dark.

"Did I sleep?" he thought to himself, irritated by the fact that if he had, he certainly didn't feel at all rested. Music played seeped into the room, it was calming. At first it was just a voice but as he listened harder are guitar was accompanying it. Now calmed he sat up and turned, laying his bare feet on the cold tiles that acted as the floor of the hospital. Slowly he stood up, his legs strong enough to hold him up. Groggily he walked out of the room, the sound of the door closed but the music held steady. The lights in the empty hall way flickered. With a goal now implanted his head he made his way through the empty quiet hospital. He walked into an elevator and pressed the basement button. His reflection in the metal mirror gazed back at him as the music changed. The elevator reached the bottom and he reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his keys. A beeping sound helped him find his car as he pushed the lock button on his keys. He got into his car and drove out of the hospital.

"I gotta go see Heaven." he said to himself. As he drove down the road the same feeling came over him. He slammed on the break responding to his intuition. The scene played out as he remembered but this time he remained conscious after his head hit the window. The force from the car hitting the back of his own caused his car to spin into the oncoming lane of traffic. A car coming the other direction hit his car, shattering his windshield and causing his head to lash forward back into the glass cut deflated air bag. His nose barely grazed the steering wheel. Recoil caused his head to jet backwards into the seat to see a full view of the car behind the one that had just hit him, slam into the one in front of him. The engine of his car exploded as the car re-impacted his own. Fire seeped into his car.

"No!" he yelled and the world laid to his whim. A gust of wind blew from behind him, pulling the fire in the other direction. As the fire stayed distracted he reached for the door handle. He unlocked the door and pulled on the handle frantically, but it wouldn't budge. Searching for another answer he grabbed the water bottle in his cup holder and screwed the top and poured water on his body to keep the fire at bay if only a second longer. The flames grew larger around him and the air became thick and hot. The smoke burned his eyes as the heat began to do the same to his throat. His breathe quickened and his heart beat in his head as panic set in. As he took in less and less oxygen and more and more smoke his breathing began to slow and he slipped into unconsciousness. As he took a final breath, he expected it to be hot and slow but it was the opposite. Cool and clean air filled his lungs and woke him up. His heart still beat inside his head.

"It was a dream." he whispered as he opened his eyes. Light from the window caught his eyes off guard.

"What the hell." he whispered as he shut them again.

Maybella jolted slightly as the music stopped, She watched as the manager was setting up tables. She ordered herself another coffee.

The Dahlilah girl had come over and sit next to her and ordered a strawberry frappe. Maybella smiled at the drink. Lines were forming in her head. A fate disrupted. A meeting of chance. she was unsure of them but they might make it into a poem.

Maybella turned to the girl. "Hi. My name is Maybella. I'd ask for yours but i kinda heard earlier. Dahlilah right?" Maybella gave a warm smile. Damien had fallen asleep and she didn't want to move him just yet so she figured she'd start a conversation with the girl, maybe.

Maybella smiled. "What brings me here is habit." She said taking the note her bag in a different place then Damien. "That and its one of the few places that allow pets to an extent."

Maybella laughed. She picked up the dark guinea pig and showed Dahlilah.

"Damien," Maybella said. She glanced at Dahlilah and noticed she looked nervous. "Something wrong? You look out of sorts" Maybella inquired turning her eyes back to Damien.

Maybella figured that she probably had somewhere to be or friends. Just because she was newer to the city doesn't mean everyone was. She had been here a week and the only place she had ever gone was the cafe. Besides job and apartment hunting.

Maybella sighed. "I'm guessing you have some where to be. Pressing matters at hand. My most pressing matter is keeping Damien fed. Myself too I guess." Maybella looked at her watch. "OH!" she exclaimed with a start.