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When I was 10 my mother asked me if I could open a jar for her.  I was nervous, I had never questioned her superior strength before but here she was, bested by a jar of pickles.  I gently rapped the rim against the edge of the marble counter top.  I twisted(more)
shocky of your former self, but it's not your fault. Everyone leaves their favorite self behind, it's just so much faster when you're dying. to your race. I always knew you were different.

...brave soldier in the critical war of your generation. It's going to tak(more)