During the flight home,I read Chris F. Holm's "The Big Reap". This is the third in his Collector series, a story of the afterlife written in a light, vaguely noir pulp style. When I arrived home from the airport near 1 p.m., I had to finish the last 20 pages. I know that novels about angels and demons and soul collectors and macabre creatures are all the rage right now, but these stories, told with lots of Raymond Chandler winks, work very well. I find myself often entertained by stories of an afterlife. I like the Albert Brooks notion in "Defending Your Life" that one's personal generosity defines how nice a hotel one gets in the afterlife while waiting for one's next assignment. I use that story as a reminder to always engage in small acts of charity, though, sadly, it has not yet motivated me to ensure a suite at a 5 star other-wordly resort. The little pandigital android tablet I use as an e-reader has lasted me more than a couple of years now, and is going strong.
I won an eBay auction while I was in mid-air When I got on my flight, the auction had two hours to go. Though I was the only bidder at that time, I moved my bid up by 5 dollars and 67 cents. Sure enough, somebody else tried to snipe in at the end with a bid 5 dollars higher, but I won because my 67 cents still sent me over the top. Those two little figures right of the decimal can sometimes make a difference,though now that I think of it, a last-minute snipe would not have prevailed against 5.00 because a match would have resulted in a "you've been outbid" flag. I felt accomplished, pretty much over nothing. Now I must decide between raisin bran and oatmeal.