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Hubris: A Short Story

146 Words1 Pages
There is a distinctly irritating and cancerous dread of the future tearing away at me. Maybe I need to stop reading books about lonely people, serial killers, and death for a little while. It’s put me in a bleak mood. But then what am I left with- the happy endings and satisfied people? I’d rather not read that either. I guess I don’t know what I want. I feel like I’ve been reading less out of pleasure and more out of desperation, grasping for the next book like a shipwreck victim, reaching for a piece of floating debris. I’m distracted, and I keep hoping I’ll come across some glorious book that will suck me back in, get me safely to shore and, best-case scenario, draw me away from all the things that make me feel alone and uprooted. But right
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