My skin is expelling months of sin and my brain is swelling around the lack of sanity and my body shakes like an earthquake but all I want is sleep and there are sounds all around from sirens and screaming and evil overtakes my eyes as I glance upon the ground for something, anything when a white angel flutters up to me from below so I hastily tear into it and the answer is there right in my hands, the answer to make or break or fight or flight or whatever other cliche applies to this particular situation.
I decide to make it, to fight.
So I search and call and try to force my body to stop turning against me before it’s too late but after seconds of no one answering I know the chance is gone and I leave a half-hearted note with the man behind the counter explaining to the owner of this treasure that it’s in my possession and I’ll keep it safe until they come forward but within five minutes I make the call and it’s gone.
There’s always next time.
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