"I can't believe anything about that time. The city wapped around me, a comfort blanket, and then dissolved: candyfloss in the rain. My skin was sticky and the flies came.
Everything was daydream for a bit, people incidental. Both hands laid flat on the table, my body a tripod. Records weren't kept, not by me anyhow. When I see photos they're, well...I don't see photos.
You see the job was good, the job was safe, the job was prime, the job was a big one but I'm not built for that sort of shit. What sort of shit am I built for? Hah, I guess I wasn't built, just fell into this seat. Then it was mine."
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