Ladiesboy217



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    The funeral is a week later. The church is sterile and nearly empty. Bruce sits next to Alfred in the front row. His eyes are fixed on his shoes the whole time. His eyes are dull and unfocused. The speakers, for there are so many, talk and talk and talk until he thinks about screaming for them to shut up. He doesn’t care what they have to say! Alfred always squeezes his hand when he feels that very strong thought and he knows he can’t do that to Alfred because he loved his parents too.

    The last one to speak is an old priest, his dad's childhood one, he thinks. He wants to summon enough energy to look up and pay attention but the words about God’s love and kindness curdle the thoughts sour before he even manages it. God is cruel if one or more even exists.

    He thinks to himself that maybe if he were to meet one what he would do. Maybe he would shout at them until his voice was gone. Maybe he would fight them. He thinks he would make them weak though. That makes the most sense to him. If he were to make a god or more mortal then, they would be subject to the misery they created or, at the least, didn’t stop.

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    23 Oct 2025

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    "I should tell him, Tim thought, lost in a trance as they wrapped the bandages around, and around, and around, and- 'I have cancer.' The wrapping stopped."

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    20 Sep 2025