11/03/2026 05:36

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'It's his pills,' she said. There had been no rotors on the craft, they said, and no visible means of propulsion. Not noticing the red splotches of byrus on the leaves of some of the bushes, the red speckles on the green although he can feel the sutures in his hip and across his belly straining and breaking open, spilling wha

That was pure human fuckery, praise Jesus. A mile down the road and still picking up speed. A third shot, then silence. Especially if the wind started kicking up, as it had now apparently decided to do.