(lol you could count of me to conclude a 100+ page novel in a couple paragraphs. perhaps i should retitle it to...tHe EnDD?????///!! my novel was complicated on so many levels and a conclusion is very difficult. we've got her past vs her present, the social struggle of finding compassion in a dehumanized world, good/evil ambiguity, and there's probably others i shouldn't be revealing....(stay tuned kids...next week we find out who exactly Carmelo is! )

CHP 17 the end

        I saw Lindsey running through the streets today.
        Sometimes, I wonder, though. I wonder too much. Sometimes I do not let myself
be indifferent, be anti-human. Snuff emotions for an analytical mindset. I do
not let myself, sometimes.
        Well, I think I’d do it one more time. Just to be sure.
        I find him outside a door on the street. A conveniently random individual. I
think, quick and painless.
        He finds himself on a steep hill, though he cannot see it. It is just too dark.
        He can feel the steepness, and clings to the side of the hill, wondering about
his physical endurance. He is probably wondering a lot of things. But he is
slipping down to some deep pit. Oblivion, though he knows it is in my belly
button.
        I am just wondering, that is all.
        But then, I see Lindsey running through the streets. I see both at the same
time. She is running through the streets, looking all over. Angry and hurt. A
short, angry person who is sad, too. I see the steepness of the hill too. I can
see the will, the desperation, the clinging.
        So, that is why I don’t do it. I don’t think he is alive, anyway.
        Lindsey runs out of the store. She doesn’t run through the street, looking.
She just runs out of the store.
        “Hired on the spot!”
        “Cool, Lindsey. They must have been impressed with your academic background.”
Carmelo says, kind of jokingly but kind of not.
        “I told you, man, I’m not going back to school!”
        I say to him, “Don’t worry, she’ll help me out with my homework, won’t you,
Lindsey.”
        “What?” She asks. She does not like this idea, especially since I’ve always
been helping (doing, actually) her homework.
        “Yea, we’ll do it over rice and sushi. My treat,” I say.
        “Hey! Sounds like fun.”