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The Third Level: Issue 6

The Third Level: Issue 6

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Published by Emma Gingold
The sixth issue of Knox College Quiver's The Third Level.
The sixth issue of Knox College Quiver's The Third Level.

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Published by: Emma Gingold on May 21, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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The TThe TThe TThe Thhhhirdirdirdird LevelLevelLevelLevel
Issue 6Issue 6Issue 6Issue 6Spring 2011Spring 2011Spring 2011Spring 2011Table of ContentsTable of ContentsTable of ContentsTable of Contents“Romance is Dead” by Paige Anderson2“Green” by Emily Nield16“Those Who Wander” by Chris Baltz43“The Persephone I Know” by Sundee Perkins68“Eyes on the Horizon” by Rosalie Fordham90“Knowing The One Who Knows” by Emma Gingold107“Crash Courses in Going Out with a Whimper” by Kyrie Scarce125
Romance is DeadRomance is DeadRomance is DeadRomance is Dead
Paige AndersonPaige AndersonPaige AndersonPaige Anderson
What a crappy way to die 
, Tom thought, as the rabid sheep ripped though historso. Whenever he thought of ways he wanted to go, death by sheep was never onthe list. Old age in a peaceful slumber, fine. Jumping out of a plane, fine. Struck bylightning, fine. Gnawed to death by an herbivore? Embarrassing, pure and simple.He tried to beat the animal, strangle it maybe, but he was no match for a madsheep.When he would tell the story later, he would always say that his death was abit of a letdown. He hadn’t seen a bright light, there had been no tunnel, and hislate grandmother must have been busy that day, because she hadn’t stopped by tousher him into the afterlife.
It was like going to sleep 
, thought Tom. He had closedhis eyes, his thinking slowed, and at some point Tom knew he must have died, buthe could never quite pinpoint when. Probably after he’d thought
I wish I had done this differently. Man, I hope that’s not my last thought, it’s so cliché.
When he woke up, the first thing Tom saw was a perky girl holding aclipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. She looked like she was in her latetwenties. Her hair was an attempt at a natural blonde, but the roots still peekedthrough. She wore a pink blouse and a public relations smile.“Name?” Her voice was a chirp.“Tom, Tom Hale. Wait, who are you? Where am I?”
He glanced around the room. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Itwasn’t a hospital, but there weren’t harps or clouds or pitchfork-wielding devilseither. If anything the place looked like an upscale store, but whenever he tried tolook at what they were selling, his eyes couldn’t focus properly. Tom thought thelime green wall had a slight neon glow and the floor was immaculate. It looked likethe stores where his little sisters wasted their Saturdays. Maybe this was hell.The girl used her pen to skim down the list. “Tom Hale, Tom Hale…ah hereyou are. Says here 27 years, brown hair, brown eyes, five foot ten, and 155 pounds.”She paused and looked Tom up and down. “Good, looks like I’ve got the right guy.I’m Sarah, and this is the Post, as in post mortem, as in posthumous. Welcome tothe afterlife’s lobby.”“So the sheep finished me off?” Tom asked.“I would think that that would be obvious. If it makes you feel any better, theanimal control officers finished off the sheep. They caught it and put it down thesame day you went,” Sarah said, as if the retribution made everything alright.“Will he be here too?” Tom said and glanced behind his shoulders.“No, animals don’t come here, except if someone asks for one specially,” Sarahsaid. “Now, we need to figure out what to do with you.”“What to do with me?” Tom asked, cocking his head slightly. “Haven’t youbeen doing this for a while? I’d think you’d have the process down after a fewthousand years of processing people.”“It’s not that simple. Second life isn’t the same for everyone. Do you want theafterlife with hormonal teenagers and senile retirees?” She paused a moment, which

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