[excerpt].cardiac soldier: ransom.

she looked at my right arm. about ten thin parallel scars ran
horizontally down my wrist, and four vertical ones sat atop my bicep.

her: what are those?
me: i dunno. it depends on how the day is going.
her: what do you mean?
me: i mean... well, like on a good day, they're a reminder: don't take
life too seriously.
her: and on the bad ones?
me: blueprints.

i'm writing a screenplay. well i started writing one a while ago. i'm
continuing a screenplay.

why?

ain't SHIT else to do. at all.