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Story for the day (Saturday)

CaptainWacky

I want to smell dark matter
"We're just going to die," he said.

"Why do you say things like that?" she asked.

"Things like what?" he said.

"Morbid things!" she said. "Just cheer up!"

"Will that change the fact that we're just going to die?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"You're not going to die!" she said. That wasn't the answer.

"I am," he said.

"Yeah, in a really long time," she sighed.

"A matter of years. Maybe fifty. That's nothing. Fifty summers. Fifty Christmases. I can visualise it perfectly. It's not a very long time."

"It'll feel like a very long time if you don't stop moaning!" she said, then, trying a new tactic, tickled his feet.

"Stop that," he said, in no mood.

"What the fuck's the matter with you?" she asked, thoroughly sick of this.

"You know," he said.

"Nothing's happened! No one you know has died, you have a great life, a great job you used to love..."

"I only loved it because I used to care about money. And what am I working for?" he asked.

"To live!" she said.

"THEN I DIE."

"OH SHUT THE FUCK UP."

"NO. AAAAAAAARGH!" He hit her. Quite hard. He enjoyed it. "DIE," he said, putting his hands around her throat and squeezing tight.

"Pleace...gack..." she tried to beg for her life but couldn't get the words out.

"No do you understand? NOW DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT WE ARE?" he asked. He let go.

"Yes...yes..." she coughed.

"Good," he said. Then started choking her again. "Bye!"
 
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