A mushroom-addled ramble on trans-humanism and the end of civilization.
With apologies to Sharjeel, who bore the brunt of it all.
Penance for the party.
Crying in the chapel.
The patron saint of anxious avoidance.
2
The siren song of never moving on.
Settling in.
2
I felt the change in atmosphere as soon as I arrived. Something was different. I wore a bright, cadmium yellow sundress with little embroidered flowers…
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THE RISK YOU RUN