“I thought if people made jokes they’d be funny”
We wish it had been as funny as it sounded in the bar, but the aftermath left us with heads as clear as glass, clearer than the liquor we drank, heads that might as well have been broken on a beer-stained floor. It wasn’t a joke anymore– it was checkmate, and we were kings cornered.
(Something like this and you discover the secret of time. Time is a lie, a linear trick. Time is a maze with no do-overs. Time is a man running with no stops on the way, and the destination happened yesterday.)