Nearly aborted, you scream as you breathe your first breath. Upside down by your ankles, slap. Not again.

The wet-nurse give you a healthy awakening to get your breathing started. It all comes rushing back. What is there to even live for? You know your crimes. And they are not few. But how?

In childhood, undeveloped brains prune away the perceptibly irrelevant, the meaningless. Whatever is left unpruned, usually around age five, continues in a similar direction.

That one direction, as it turned out, has been the catalyst of generational learning. But in consecutive life sentences such as yours, it is also a generational prison. You know what you did. Your brain is scanned. A red light. You crawl slowly out of your bassinet. You manage to creep to a door unnoticed. Here goes nothing. You run in front of oncoming traffic. Smash. Now you are down to 4 life sentences. Your crime violation of Cat Code Sec. 187 - Mass Mouse Murder.

Upside down again, slap. You count yourself lucky to be a cat.