Page 82 - The Midnight Library
P. 82

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                   She sat on the sofa and waited for a few moments, watching.

                   e woman’s avatar got shot in the head.
                   ‘Piss off, you zombie fuckface,’ the woman snarled happily at the screen.
                   She  picked  up  the  vape  pen.  Nora  wondered  how  she  knew  this  woman.
                She was assuming they were flatmates.

                   ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said.’
                   ‘What did I say?’ Nora asked.
                   ‘About  doing  some  cat-sitting.  You  know,  you  wanted  to  look  aer  that
                cat?’

                   ‘Oh yeah. Sure. I remember.’
                   ‘Bad fucking idea, man.’
                   ‘Really?’
                   ‘Cats.’

                   ‘What about them?’
                   ‘ ey’ve got a parasite. Toxoplas-something.’
                   Nora  knew  this.  She  had  known  this  since  she  was  a  teen,  doing  her  work
                experience at Bedford Animal Rescue Centre. ‘ Toxoplasmosis.’

                   ‘ at’s  it!  Well,  I  was  listening  to  this  podcast,  right  .  .  .  and  there’s  this
                theor y that this international group of billionaires infected the  cats with it so
                that they could take over the world by making humans dumber and dumber.
                I   mean,   think   about   it.   ere   are   cats   ever ywhere.   I   was   talking   to   Jared

                about this and Jared said, “Jojo, what are you smoking?” And I was like, “ e
                stuff  you  gave  me”  and  he  said,  “Yeah,  I  know.”  en  he  told  me  about  the
                grasshoppers.’
                   ‘Grasshoppers?’

                   ‘Yeah. Did you hear about grasshoppers?’ Jojo asked.
                   ‘What about them?’
                   ‘ ey  are  all  killing  themselves.  Because  this  parasitic  worm  grows  inside
                them,  to  become  like  a  full-grown  aquatic  creature,  and  as  it  grows  it  takes

                over  the  brain  function  of  the  grasshopper,  so  the  grasshopper  thinks,  “Hey,
                I   really   like   water”   and   so   they   divebomb   into   water   and   die.   And   it’s
                happening all the time. Google it. Google  “grasshopper suicide”. Anyway, the
                point is, the elites are killing us via cats and so you shouldn’t be near them.’

                   Nora  couldn’t  help  thinking  how  different  this  life       was  to  her  imagined
                version  of  it.  She  had  pictured  herself  and  Izzy  on  a  boat  near  Byron  Bay,
                mar velling at the magnificence of humpback whales, and yet she  was here  in
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