I have serendipitously booked a room that is in a home owned by Mark and Angela. It is on a pretty peninsula, like Fortune's Rocks. Jenn is there.
She is still dead, but a new, eternal version of her has spawned. She's essentially what she always was, delightful, warm, fun to be around. Her life force is undiminished.
I worry that we don't have much time together, but the day also feels open and infinitely stretched out. We have all the tme in the world to be loving, dear friends.
