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When she had first toured the gym, she had fallen in love with the cycling studio, with its exposed rafters, antique brick walls, and shining wood floor. Now she barely noticed. It was just a really well-decorated torture chamber.
“I used to work there.” Parrish lifted his head, smiling quickly. “Yes.” He nodded. “You did.” “I worked in a lab.” “Exactly.” “I was a scientist.” Parrish cocked his head and spoke slowly, carefully. “Yes… technically.” “Technically? What does that mean?” “It means… your life was somewhat complicated.” “Could you possibly be any more vague right now?”
I told you so is only advantageous if you live to revel in your superiority.
A mind under stress naturally resists rest. It is a machine that is always on. Yet, often times, the only way to overcome the stress-inducing obstacle is to recharge and achieve greater performance.
Over the radio, the man began talking. It was what Owen was expecting: words without answers, ambiguities that a more naïve version of himself would have listened to.
“I don’t get excited about anything anymore. That’s part of getting older.” “Actually, I think complaining is just part of your way of life.” “Maybe there is hope for you, Owen. And yes, you’re right. I complain. And I comply. And I fix things. That’s my life.”

