On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.
Narrator (Fight Club)
On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.
A new car built by my company leaves somewhere traveling at 60 mph. The rear differential locks up. The car crashes and burns with everyone trapped inside. Now, should we initiate a recall? Take the number of vehicles in the field, A, multiply by the probable rate of failure, B, multiply by the average out-of-court settlement, C. A times B times C equals X. If X is less than the cost of a recall, we don't do one.
If I did have a tumor, I'd name it Marla.
My suitcase was vibrating?
I wasn't really dying. I wasn't host to cancer or parasites. I was the warm little center that the life of this world crowded around.
Home was a condo on the fifteenth floor of a filing cabinet for widows and young professionals. The walls were solid concrete. A foot of concrete is important when your next-door neighbor lets their hearing aid go and have to watch game-shows at full volume. Or when a volcanic blast of debris that used to be your furniture and personal effects blows out of your floor-to-ceiling windows and sails flaming into the night. I suppose these things happen.