When the doctor took me to a dank apartment and hooked me up
to a machine, I had to ask, “Is this one of those death machines I’ve been
hearing so much about?” The doctor looked around nervously. Sweat seemed to trickle
from his forehead. Then he made a quick phone call where the doctor kept
talking about some guy who was “on to them.” Then he came back and finally
answered my question. “No,” he said. That was all I needed to hear.
Friday, January 3, 2014
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