He dreaded the day ahead he would face, at least part of him did. Not the day itself, for that he was thankful. He dreaded the inevitable interaction with fellow human beings who were barely capable of civility. The ones who created for themselves little bubbles of existence, where they in their minds are the only ones who should exist. The ones who hold to a fiction of history and destiny. He knew full well he would be seen as the ogre to their imaginary virtue, an enemy to their dream state. Nevertheless, he had to venture out. He needed eggs for breakfast.
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