Make a decision. It doesn’t matter what you decide.
David and I once had a conversation about decisions. He was moving out of Marty and Peggy's and I was helping him, schlepping boxes of porn and Java textbooks.
“That’s your problem,” he said as we shoved his sagging cardboard vessels into my trunk. It would be a miracle if everything got to his new place only slightly damaged.
I slammed the hatch and settled myself behind the wheel. “Buckle up,” I said. “Goddammit. You get your black ass killed on your own time.”
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