Oh zing! That electric snap goes right up to the ears. Ellis’ fists involuntarily clenched. For the next thirty seconds, he was in command. Troubled birth and a childhood of forced napping vanished. He was taller. Eager to bite through low-grade masonry. This was the thrill Ellis felt each time he ordered his underlings to lie on the ground, servile and silent, as he walked barefoot across their faces. Doubt evaporated, and there, atop the mountain stood Ellis.

Endless Regret Catches Us All.

Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.

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