Difficulties posed in marketing a monstrously large book entice its characters to flee the author's mind in hopes of helping.
Even the best of intentions fall awry sometimes.
Buckle your seatbelt... insanity is never more than a page away clear until the end. More
“It’s a mistake... please bring me some new overalls!” I called out; to no avail, his only response being a solitary finger raised shoulder high. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn! I shouted in my head. I swatted the brown bag, which exploded, and then hurled the soggy toilet paper roll after him... before I could stop myself. It hit him square in the back and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. He reached back and felt a large wet spot in the middle of his back and began to wheeze loudly. He fumbled for his com and, quite inexplicably, I could hear him fighting for breath... which came to him in short, sobbing little gasps. “Officer down! Office down!” He finally managed to sputter. “It’s Mac! I‘m in... solitary! Been hit... shot! In the back... from behind! Help! Tell my... wife and kids... I love them! Can’t breathe! There’s a light! It’s... so bright... so beautiful!” Alarms were ringing everywhere. I heard the doors crash open and ran to the farthest corner of my cell where I cowered.
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