Somewhat Peaceful

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Most stories begin with "Once Upon a Time" and end with "They lived happily ever after". At least, that's how it used to be. Once stories quit doing that, the world went to hell in a handbasket. 

I had never believed in the afterlife until it was too late. Only when I was unceremoniously cast into Hell did I realize how wrong I was. Who knew?

As it turned out, carving out a life for one's self was no harder here than it was in the living world. In the short that I had been in what was known to sinners as the Pride Ring, I had found my own little niche in this strange world.

My bookshop sat at the corner of a quiet street between a coffee shop and a record store. Rows of neatly shelved books stood ready to browse while armchairs dispurses in out-of-the-way nooks and crannies invited readers to sit. Above it all was my little one-bedroom, one-bath apartment that I lived in with my cat, Salem.

It was a quiet, somewhat peaceful life. At least, it was. A chime of the bell above my shop door early one morning brought Hell right to my doorstep.

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