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id="_idTextSpan29949" class="CharOverride-5" style="position:absolute;top:2572.35px;left:0px;text-rendering:optimizeLegibility;letter-spacing:-1.21px;">indefinitely. He didn’t have the guts to get into a bout with the blank white screen that early in the morning. He was still in the phase where, like the ink that a pen contains had coagulated during the night, he needed a bit of a relevant jolt to get going. A task carried out with abundant diligence, to the point that at times it resulted in excessive zeal, by the correction itself.

It usually took place before dawn. Like the executions in correctional facilities. Those to be sentenced to death or banishment for the most part were: phrases, words, prepositions, pronouns, metaphors, analogies, similes, ideas, rubbish, wisecracks. As he kept hover-ing over them, they more or less had suspected it, but remained completely unaware, the ones of the exact time and date of their execution and, the others, their final destination. Consequently, the bush telegraph went crazy. None of them, apart from those, of course,

You’ve said guts elsewhere, put down balls.

Simos Panopoulos - Look at that

123

who for some reason had secured the boss’s favour and were therefore laid-back, kept a cool head. Besides, presumption of innocence, reversal of the burden of proof, fair trial, procedural safeguards, legal aid, ne bis in idem, cui bono, in dubio pro reo, lex fori, these were all concepts as entirely unknown to the prosecution as to the defence. The basic rule of the whole process re-lied on a single man’s rule, in spite of the fact that he was being led by God knows what sort of impondera-bles. A man who, in order to bring it to an end had to, finding it in his heart - put yourself in his shoes - turn his heart to stone to be able to hack away at entire sec-tions, blood of his blood, to write which he has shed blood. Indeed, there were no words to describe how much it pained him to remove their right to exist just on a whim. How could he not feel if not hangman’s agony, at the very least, that of the coach of the na-tional basketball team, who a week before the world cup announces to eight players of the starting twen-ty that they don’t exactly fit his plans. That the other remaining twelve were far more up to snuff, whereas they were the fly in the ointment amongst them all, he would certainly never give it to them straight, but it was as plain as the nose on their face.

- As well as the readers, unless they’ve finished Law school.

- That’s what Google is for.

A phrase suitable for creative writing seminars on how one should not write.

Stop making

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