“Thanks, Dad.”
Fuck, really?
Great.
This wasn’t what I was going for.
Virtues aren’t right most of the time. They tend to get you lost in the crowd, or walked on, or killed. Vices are what define you. Your ability to walk the wrong way beats out your ability to bleat like the rest of them.
But the fact is if I wasn’t holding back every well-deserved trick and cuntpunch, the situation would be much worse. It would cost my family more drama and treasure. It would make the current rough seas stormier, Perfect Storm-style. It would invite destruction upon the already suffering city,
Fuck this.
God owes me one.
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