PREVIEW
... way.
I just stared at the slab, at the cracked fire symbol and the food-stained claw marks, and tried to remember when I signed up for this.
Oh right.
I didn't.
But here I am.
The fire's low. The grave's cold. And everyone's watching me like I'm supposed to have a map and a plan and maybe a motivational speech, when all I've got is a clawful of bad decisions and whatever's left of my blood sugar.
Still, I stand up. Again. I'm getting good at that p ...
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