
"Jesus Christ, what a mystery I am to myself! Penetrated with shame and emptiness, I lower my head and stare at the floor. So this is how I live, who I really am, I think, as I bend to pick up a small square of paper which lies on the floor, half under the mattress. Some writing on it. In an odd mood, I tell myself, Pretend this is a message left by the great big bang evolutionary force of the universe specially for me. I begin to read...." THE END
Wow! Writing is so mysterious. After reworking this ending paragraph, I'm now leaning toward leaving the ending as is. Of course, it's obviously a way to start a novel. Guess, I'll stop now, go for a walk and ponder the imponderables.
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