It costs $200 to go outside, you’re surveilled the entire time and everyone you meet has this post-Covid social autism where talking to them feels like trying to communicate with a robotic alien and there’s a palpable layer of suspicion around everything
I was reading Steinbeck's East of Eden and found a 2008 Walgreens receipt on which someone copied out the passage:
"A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have left only the hard, clean questions: Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well—or ill?"