“How did you survive?”
James stared into space. “I’m afraid my thoughts weren’t Christ-like at first. After several work shifts, I was wrapped in bitterness and despair. When the work supervisor came near me, I imagined myself doing terrible things—hitting him in the head with my pick, tearing his suit off, picking up a huge piece of ore-filled stone and killing him, you name it.”
Jim smiled. So his father was human. He himself would have broken under the same circumstances.
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