This morning there was one of those guys in the elevator who really felt a need to make a deep connection with me between floors 1 and 12. Telling me all about the crazy weather and how his office in Rowlett was flooded and they had to rent some industrial... dryer... things... life.....
force....... draining.............. must...................... reach................................ cyanide.
I tried to smile and grunt approvingly, but the room was spinning and the elevator seemed to have stopped. Felt like Ted Ferguson after a botched stunt.
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