Chapter 28: Epilogue
Judgement in the parking lot, “987, not a thousand miles,” and a few final notes from the end of the world.
Monday, 7379273.863740735.056855.5647393644633.5757303.82
To Whom It May Concern:
Oy, vey. This is God. We’re going to have to interrupt. This entire time We’re biting Our Tongue, and, where to start?
So, at the end.
He arrives in Finisterre. It’s a perfect day: warm, cloudless, everything as requested. Three oil tankers swept off the ho…
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