@garuda28 @UsLiberate At 5:14pm, Gloria Vanderbilt's timer began the ritual. She folded a finger inside her copy of the "The New Yorker" to page 25. It was time to tell Carter a story. Upstairs she found him on the bed in his older brother's room. "I'd like to read you for a bit. You' feel better." 
@garuda28 @UsLiberate Gloria arranged for The New Yorker to publish the story, "White Angel." Carter hadn't heard this story since he was a boy. He did not remember it now. Not yet. It was the story of two brothers. A voyeuristic sex act between them, L.S.D., and one of them breaking thru a window.
@garuda28 @UsLiberate Ms Vanderbilt finished reading, "White Angel." Carter ran over to the 14th story balcony. He turned to his mother and screamed, "Fuck You! ... Will I ever feel again?!" He climbed over the railing with a purpose, and simple let go. The ritual sacrifice of her oldest son was over.
@garuda28 @UsLiberate Gloria didn't register his fall. Not did she look over the edge to face it. She had already picked up the phone and was dialing. She caught herself and hung up. She just stood there, in the same room as what just happened
She wanted to redecorate. She hit redial and waited.
She wanted to redecorate. She hit redial and waited.
@garuda28 @UsLiberate True evil does not strike with a cackling laugh. The deepest evil is fully dehumanized. The evilest word is a silence. Gloria still doesn't really know what happened. Can you see how much crueler it is that way? Satan is a machine, not a consciousness.
