X is looking out at the dark sea through the pub’s rain-spattered window. A chill air comes through the frame. Horror, he mumbles, nothing but horror, like in the old days. It never goes away, he says, we just learn to ignore it. We blur it with our pints and pills. He turns to me. When will you kill me? You were going to not so long ago, remember? But you lost your nerve like you always do. Well I’m still here. When will you do it?


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