Death Is Lame.

Tony has been dead for only about two or three years. Maybe seven. It's hard to follow the flow of time without a heartbeat. The days pile up and are meaningless when you are dead, but that isn't Tony's biggest beef with the afterlife. The city is the same as when Tony was alive but everyone is a stranger. The denizens pass their time maintaining an arbitrary set of rules passed down from a time they cannot remember. The dead live in an endless autumn where change is not only rare but considered gauche. Can a soul find love and meaning in a joint like this?