THE LAST THROES OF THE EGO
Hawk on the wing. Warts on the albino dwarf’s dick. Gum on the sole of a dancing shoe. Crackers crushed into the floorboard. Mites in the rice bin. Eloquence like a racing engine with no drive shaft. Suicide, the last stamp in your passport.
The brain goes on synapsing 6 to 12 minutes after everything else shuts down.
Can there be anything more terrifying?