You had an internet. You lived in a web that linked you with all the answers that ever were, and you carried them everywhere with you in a glass and metal rectangle that was pocket-sized but could talk to satellites. You never needed to be stupid, or not know things about everything. We’re out here on the wrong side of a dying world trying to piece together the story of what’s happened from torn fragments that we can only snatch at as they flutter past us in the wind. Like with the army tank with the doll’s head in the gun-barrel under the fallen petrol station canopy, I will never know why
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