by Chuck Wendig.
A few years ago, I found this Polaroid I took of my bedroom when I was 16. It was taken two and a half years after the Annihilation (we haven’t got there yet on this blog). At this point, my identity disintegration was well underway, and I had been a not-person for some time.
And yet, seeing this photo, I recognise that I still insisted on existing.
