CinnaJen

The Microwave of the Gods is Forbidden   There were a lot of cute, nice little things about Heaven, but the reception was pretty fritzy. I’d been lying upside-down on my swivel chair, tipper in hand, waiting for this text to go through for the last three minutes. Midnight in Michigan was fast approaching, and Franny was running out of time. A quarter of an hour, absolute tops, until we rebooted in England. Again.    Figuring I may as well embrace my penguin instincts, I rolled over onto my belly and slid down to the floor. The lights had gone off a couple of hours ago, but the back-up generator was running fine. It sat thrumming besi