ran across cyclist from a while ago.
he's had an allergic reaction that's spotted his face, a bad case of ingrowing beard, he's lost a lot of weight, his hair is dirty, his mobile phone was stolen and he's about to lose his job.
now, of course, i'm concerned and i ask after him, what medicine he's taking, if he's feeling better, and all that.
but if external dialogue is all florence nightingale, internal monologue is all wicked witch of hell.
"a-haaaa", i have to contain myself from exclaiming, "that's what happens when you decide not to call back a powerful southamerican sorceress, ha ha ha ha ha!!!!"
and the moral of the tale? obviously, i'm seriously disturbed. but you knew that already, didn't you?
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