Chapter Twenty
And that’s the end of the story.
Really.
It’s over.
Done.
Stop reading.
Go away.
*
ARE YOU STILL HERE?
Why?
What more do you want from me? Isn’t it enough that my life has been shredded? Stripped of everything that ever had any meaning? Do you want me to die now too? Would that satisfy your morbid curiosity? Bring everything to a nice, neat conclusion? Well, I’m way ahead of you. Did that a few chapters ago. And looking back, that should really have been the end of the story there and then. I mean, come on, how many first person monologues carry on after the narrator shuffles off this mortal dancefloor? You know how these things work. The laws of literature. People can’t just reappear in the shower months later, and everything turns out to have just been a bad drea
