Snow on the Beach

"Snow cones," I asked. "What's your take on them?"

Hannah did that thing with her eyebrow that silently tells me I'm crazy. She gives me that look at least twice a day. But she also follows it up by entertaining my weird questions.

"Sure," she replied, "I'm alright with them, though I'm more of a long-walks-on-the-beach kinda girl."

"Yeah," I sighed, "I guess they're not really the type to do that, are they?"

"No, I suppose not," Hannah said sadly.

"Because they'd melt," I added, "and then someone would be bound to drown."

"Yeah."

A pause. I took a moment to think through this.

"What about the Abominable Snowman?" I asked at last. 

I was onto something. I knew it because Hannah raised her other eyebrow, which silently tells me I'm onto something. But just as she gave that affirming look, there came a knock on the door. That's the lovely thing (one of many, anyway) about The Station. You never have to go looking for Adventure - it always comes to your door. Sure, from there, you might go out for pizza with it, maybe a long walk on the beach or a game of chess in the park, light an abandoned building on fire or save a group of orphans from a sinking ship. But it always begins (at The Station, anyway) with a knock on the door.

I'm sorry to say this is not a continuation of our series on Madness. That will come further on down the road, as Hannah implied. You see, my dear cousin has this ability to see into the future, and she sometimes mixes it up with the present. So she says things in passing, like "Years passed until one day..." and we are all left hanging in the balance until either we reach that point in time naturally or she accidentally slips into that vision again and gives us more to go with. So, all that to say, the story of Madness will continue someday, and I wish I could confidently say when, but the truth is we are all at the mercy of Hannah's little quirk.