Tell me, brother, don’t you understand–we’re all working for the Pharaoh

I have two free hours.


And really, the words are there; but they’re scabbed over a bit, or dried out, or atrophied. My eyes blur and run. I’ve been looking at screens fifteen hours a day this week. My shoulder aches. This cannot be allowed to matter.

Drive the body, my sergeant used to say. And I say: Drive the soul.

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