by Roman Theodore Brandt
We came here to get away, and to be in love. What we found was a lonely home in the Midwest.That's life, they tell us. That's normal. Get up, eat, wash the dishes, go to bed. Live life in the living room. When you die, you'll be buried face down on top of your father and his father, each new arrival sending the last closer to hell.
Suppose I don't want to live this way anymore?