Terminal Musings

She smells of sickness and death. She smells of sickness and death and I’m bugging even before she sits down next to me, in the only empty seat in that crowded walk-in clinic. F—. Her each shallow wheeze builds a wall of contamination, and I plaster myself against a seat handle as far away from [...]

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Click image for a larger version What with all that’s going on, let’s try and have a reasonable 2009 m’k?

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