Why are you the way you are?
I have no idea what you might mean.
It’s 3:16 am, and you’re paging through scans of 70’s rock magazines and listening to KISS.
If it makes you feel better, I am ashamed of myself.
It doesn’t. Why aren’t you writing a Little Aleppo story?
Because they take a couple days to write, and I don’t want to start one because I’m most likely going to die on the table Wednesday morning.
It’s an endoscopy.
I’LL SEE YOU SOON, DAD!
Death is certain.
Eventually, sure. Not Wednesday.
I really do.
Still not starting anything. That’s bad luck.
I actually agree with that.
I thought you said I wasn’t going to die.
One out of 100,000 die under general anesthesia, and they’re usually old and sick. Far more dangerous to drive to the hospital.
Never set God up for a joke.
This was my point the entire time.