After months of toiling over the perfect ending, I seemingly stumbled upon it in a small operating theatre with a cast of only 3. The gas smelt like illegal chemicals and I could feel my brain cells being shut down one by one. A few breaths later my memory died.
It would have been perfect if it could have been left at just that, but of course something pulled me back. The return of my memory taunted me with what a beautiful ending it could have been, if those people with the drugs and the gas would have just let me be.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment