![]() For myself, I’m wondering why I went to the effort of hollowing out perfect right angles in the shallow, dusty grave I’ve just dug for myself.Īm I stringing out my last fleeting moments of existence? Am I being obsessive-compulsive to the very bitter end? Has Dad’s lesson about “a job worth doing” finally sunk in? ![]() Silly the things you think about in a moment like that. Somewhere in the moonlit Mojave wasteland a debonair post-apocalyptic gangster apologises as he takes careful aim at my head and explains to me that the game has been rigged all along.
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