The Sunday Whirl

Not really in the spectrum of torture, but he sometimes found it hard to breathe. The tweak and bundle of his torn heart would be lost in a bit of time. “Easy to think that”, he said to himself. “If only a beam of light would transfer this pain into that virtual reality box on the shelf—then all would be well.”

Joe plunked himself down on the couch, donned the headset and proceeded to live where he was safest and happiest, in a fantasy world.


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