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I hate god

oh God, oh God, oh God. Blundering into my living room at 7 a.m., I see the cat has left me another dead mouse on my new carpet. I pick the corpse up gingerly by the tail, unlock the front door  and chuck it out into the front garden (next door’s!).

then I notice a small, pink thing on the carpet. It is moving. It is the blind, aborted foetus of a mouse. It is trying to crawl to its dead mother.

Oh God. How do I hate you, you unspeakable old shit.

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