No good deed goes unpunished. Or so Emmie would say as she stands in a subway car holding a box of human ashes, watching the owner of said-remains fade from sight. This was not how she foresaw her day going. First her agent tells her that her second book is a complete failure and now this. Plus, she has a flight to catch and a financial ruin to deal with. Say nothing of her husband that thinks she has everything perfectly handled. But okay, one mess at a time, starting with the urn. But its return is a huge no-go and she's left with no choice. Emmie boards the plane, taking it with her. Back at home, she sets that problem aside for a greater one. To write something new, sellable. But just because the need is there, doesn't mean the creative waters flow. As a distraction, she rotates back to the task of reuniting the urn to its proper heir. Only, somewhere between thinking and doing, a spark pops. It's the ashes. Every time they are near, she can write, but soon near isn't enough. She ingests them, little by little, until every last trace of the grey dust is gone. The payoff is a finished novel. The charge an empty urn and the steady usher in of reality.
