And so I'd have to move, just like that. With the little cylindrical prong sticking into the wall socket for all eternity. I wouldn't know what that would do, if anything, except cause a nuisance, for years. It seemed like it had the capability for something great. That another cylindrical socket part would touch it, a switch would get flipped, and that would be the end of... something. Or perhaps not. Perhaps nothing. Perhaps the holes don't matter at all. And they were created by a man who simply held a grudge and wanted to see what he could get away with, and for how long.
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