- You maughtn't mind the muckle nai more, miss, for there's an everlasting city what swims before these eyes a-nights, and so you musn't cry none, not for this poor Christian soul
A local woman crawled into bed last night, defeated and exhausted by nothing more than the thousand small indignities faced by any human being on the planet on any given day, when she was suddenly struck by the horrifying realization that she was going to have to get out of bed and do all of this shit again tomorrow. All of it. The local woman closed her eyes, momentarily overwhelmed by the prospect of facing…
