Friday, November 17, 2006


There's always someone worse off than you...
It was four a.m when the phone rang, summoning me from the pit, urgent, breathless. Then the waiting. Hurry up and wait. Finally he arrived.
Young, much younger than me. Whiter than the sheet he lay upon, face a mess of blood, one eye ruined and his nose smeared across his face. Car wreck; high speed; no output; downtime 90 minutes. All around me, the staff are working, anticipating what needs to be done, almost eager, as if by sheer force of will we can play God.
But I know it's hopeless. We can try all we want; nothing will work. There's no simple solution here. It's done. No-one disagrees, but I feel their disappointment. They wanted to win one. But we're not God. And God don't play dice; at least not to lose.
What a fucking waste.

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