Novel

Still, the day felt like a very American kind of death. To him, anyway. And no one else could even understand why he felt this way. It was an accolade, after all, wasn’t it? He would be receiving the respect and attention of his peers, wouldn’t he?

“Yeah?” Selbridge thought out loud loud while still in the nicotinic street. “Where were these ‘peers’ last Tuesday? Or back in January? Or ever?”

That may have been a little extreme. But extremity in the pursuit of misery is a virtue.

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