The Sunday Papers
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Short excerpt below. Read at the original source.
Sundays are for realising that he’s coming. That he’s inevitable. That, in a way, he’s already here. You feel him in the back of your mind. Grinding his teeth. Picking his nose. Raking his nails across the palms of his hands. He hungers, a snarling hunk of robo-man-flesh yearning for the time his clarion call […]