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156 pages, ebook
First published October 8, 2014





"At 2:59, it all goes off again, and the night is as silent as the pause after a threat."
I am a hangnail on society’s manicured middle finger. I’m older. One year past the age anyone gives a shit.
It was a wonderful morning, the warmth of the sun and the warmth of friendship combined. I think I realized then that there is a line of beauty to every twisted thing, a perfection to everything that is broken. A thing can only flow when it is in motion, after all, and to be in motion, a thing has to break its perfect stillness. Only broken things are perfect things.
“Everything comes from somethin’,” she replied with a shrug. “Everything got some form of energy wrapped up inside it, and energy don’t die. It finds a way to exist, no matter.
“So you and me, we’re gonna live forever?”
“Yessir,” she said. “We are like gods, you and me. We are like vessels holdin’ godstuff.”
He smiled. “I like that, Miss Nessa. That’s some damn fine theology”