You’ve heard of the Hermit Kingdom, land of a dictator, well, I live in the hermit hovel, an old bungalow with a cat and countless mice.
My cat is writing her autobiography. Her penmanship is scratchy at best so I am her scribe. She wants it transcribed on parchment paper.
I know a lot of dead people. I don’t call them anymore. I used to dial A for Afterlife. Never an answer. Talking into a dead phone.