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How
everything
you
ever
love
will
reject
you
or
die
.
Everything
you
ever
create
will
be
thrown
away
.
Everything
you
're
proud
of
will
end
up
as
trash
.
I
am
Ozymandias
,
king
of
kings
.
One
more
punch
and
my
teeth
click
shut
on
my
tongue
.
Half
of
my
tongue
drops
to
the
floor
and
gets
kicked
away
.
The
little
figurine
of
Mrs.
Patrick
Madden
knelt
on
the
floor
next
to
the
body
of
her
husband
,
the
rich
people
,
the
people
they
called
friends
,
towering
drunk
around
her
and
laughing
.
The
wife
,
she
said
,
"
Patrick
?
"
The
pool
of
blood
spreading
wider
and
wider
until
it
touches
her
skirt
.
She
says
,
"
Patrick
,
that
's
enough
,
stop
being
dead
.
"
The
blood
climbs
the
hem
of
her
skirt
,
capillary
action
,
thread
to
thread
,
climbing
her
skirt
.
