Your mind has become a slum, filled with collapsing principles and dark desires. Your few decent thoughts have long since been mugged by memories of what you did, and what you wanted very much to do but lacked courage for. City government has again listed the year’s most morally needy, and you topped the list. They have appropriated funds to clean out your mind, redevelop it so that decent thoughts could live there without needing to triple-lock the doors of the mind.
Specialist firms have been asked to bid. After sampling the contents of your mind, all the prospective bidders dropped out. “Too many years,” one said, “too much filth.” “Not enough left to save,” said another. The city’s contracting officer gives you the news: You will continue to live with the stench of your desires, the sewage of your guilt.
“Saved!” you exclaim.
Memorable Fancies 
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