The Death of a Wee Bit Weary Man

In a moment like that, when there was no joy and no sorrow and only a rotten tiredness, he shut his mind to the world and outwardly became unconscious and inwardly jumped gleefully up and down on the trail of the gleeful mind and the things that filled it with glee and the things that gleed him up towards a mountain of made-at-precious-home joy, with the morose doctors losing hope at such pace that even a long nap under the tree would not let the tortoise reach and with their much much sober decision to cut him out of the world, and outside of the world was an absolute and absolute nothing and now, oh fun, so was he.


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