Normal

Molloy had to leave home. He felt compelled to get a tattoo he feared may curse him forever. Were The People For a Better World really who they said they were? Could he survive on his own? Have a normal life?

“I saw the bench that had been almost like a home, or at least a refuge, to me for several hours last night. I had the urge to sit there and get my thoughts together. I tried to do so, but the moment I sat down I was immediately compelled to do something else even more strongly. It was as if while I slept my subconscious had come up with a plan to improve the odds of my survival and decided to act upon the plan before letting me in on it...”