26 October 2011


Mental Health
Bombs were falling, shells popping like firecrackers in the streets, and gunfire raising a racket as the insurgents drew near. All the disgraced dictator could think of was the horrible things they would probably do to his exquisite dollhouse collection when they got their filthy revolutionary hands on it. If only the world could have seen the tender care with which I furnished the tiny palaces and mansions, he reflected, would they really be about to execute me for the war crimes?

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