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The Erinyes Effect

Pretty George stood there biting his thumbnail. He really had no idea what the heck he was supposed to do next or where to go. 

He leaned up in the bus shelter, his duffel bag by his side. He was on sentinel duty for a bus that wouldn't come until morning.

He had finished his tour and was home, but home wasn't there no more. While he was away his grandmother passed on and the house where he was raised was razed and turned into a mini-mart. 

He spat out a little chunk of nail, and then he fished through his pockets looking for a sheet of paper.

The problem was that he had tons of pieces of torn paper in various locations about his body. The trick was finding the right one. 

He found the piece of paper he was looking for: Max 555-555-5555 right straight across the board. He reached inside his pocket to get a coin and headed towards the phone.