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About
Snippet
What
really
counted
was
the
possibility
of
escape,
a
leap
of
freedom,
out
of
the
implacable
ritual,
a
wild
run
for
it
that
would
give
whatever
chance
for
hope
there
was.
Of
course,
hope
meant
being
cut
down
on
some
street
corner,
as
you
ran
like
mad,
by
a
random
bullet.
But
when
I
really
thought
it
through,
nothing
was
going
to
allow
me
such
a
luxury.
Everything
was
against
it;
I
would
just
be
caught
up
in
the
machinery
again.
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