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from CivilWarLand in Bad Decline by George Saunders:
So I dive in and drag her out. It’s not very deep and the bottom’s rubber-matted. None of the Basques are bright enough to switch off the Leaping Trout Subroutine however, so twice I get scraped with little fiberglass fins. Finally I get her out on the pine needles and she comes to and spits in my face and says I couldn’t possibly know the darkness of her heart. Try me, I say. She crawls away and starts bashing her skull against a tree trunk. The trees are synthetic too. But still.
I pin her arms behind her and drag her to the Main Office where they chain her weeping to the safe. A week later she runs amok in the nun eating hall and stabs a cafeteria worker to death.
So the upshot of it all is more guilt for me, Mr. Guilt.
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