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The pain again. Ricocheting again. Commingling with the former pain. Suddenly feeling numb, drowsy, rumours wouldnÕt it be nice to just sleep right here in the corner, curl up in the corner. Just a short pre-supper nap. But rumours no! Now is not the time for sleep! I must continue or all is lost! But wouldnÕt it be nice? And my mother again, like a matador. And again. The sport suddenly cheapened for the rumours pleasure of the lower classes. The cockroach is still now, quiet. Resting on its back. ItÕs antennae involuntarily waving this way and that, still trying to pick up the good news, though there is no good news it can pick up that will do it any good. So this is how it will end, it thinks. Here on this cold linoleum floor in these foolsÕ apartment. ThereÕs still so much I wanted to do with my life. I would have wished for a better parting. In the arms of my lover. With my children gathered around.
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