It just doesn’t feel like it. Too big a burg? Too entirely modern, both in its shiny surfaces and its rusty ones? Not haunted enough, not like the way Minneapolis shimmers in the night like Tir na Nog’th?
Dunno. Anyway, that’s where we’re going to meet the folks and pick up Ray.
Update: I’m still not sure about Omaha, but Nebraska (at least along the I-80 corridor) is hereby christened as Limbo. The river of forgetfulness wends nearby, and the twisted elms nearby resemble the grove(s) of suicides.
Maybe it was just my frame of mind. We stopped at a gas station on the way out there. As I was leaving, I noticed a reward poster–$10,000 for information leading to arrest of murder of a blonde woman. As I walked back to the Jeep, I saw a dead yellow butterfly on the ground. Brrr…