Slipping into his coat, Mike Raglan knew he was arguing with himself to no purpose, for he was going back. He was not even sure if he was making a free choice. It might be that all his years of becoming what he was were dictating the issue.
How much choice did a man have, after all? Are we not all conditioned to certain expressions of life? Do we have a choice, whether we run or fight? He slipped a notepad into his pocket and went out to the car.
I think we've all been there.
"This is stupid. This does not advance my goals, and is likely to end in heartbreak. I guess I should bring a jacket."
...and off we go into our fates...
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