December 2010
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The Sad Migration
Gérard felt like he could just lie down under a tree and sleep forever. His body was numb and heavy, his eyelids felt like wet sand and his head like a stone. He had no reason to go home, he had nothing to do today or tomorrow. His thoughts had repeated themselves so many times, like a bad play to which he knew every line, and in which he played every role. He thought of the aqueduct, he thought...
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"Escape from Spiderhead" by George Saunders →
From the December 20, 2010 issue of The New Yorker
“But you just now expressed no preference,” he said. “Ergo, no trace of either of those great loves remains. You are totally cleansed. We brought you high, laid you low, and now here you sit, the same emotionwise as before our testing even began. That is powerful. That is killer. We have unlocked a mysterious eternal secret. What a fantastic...
