after sleeping off the rest of the morning at a highway camp-stop next to a quick make-shift fire... the uncontrollable shadows and voices of Jacob's mind unpredictably and uncontrollably manifested.... telling him to take a knife up and prey for God -- prey with an 'e', not an 'a'... 'prey for God,' said the hellish voice in his mind and a disturbingly hellish image would flash into his mind....... 'kill!' screamed the Satanic voices.......... but for the sake of his cardboard cutout friend, Jacob would not heed the voices or images, nor give any indication that they ran through his mind, despite his fear that his mind would not be able to bear the burden any longer and would succumb..... he struggled to listen to the Colbert cutout, that seemed to be talking through a mist, telling him about his short novels -- the novels he wrote as a teenager and young man...
'i always believed in a great book,' said the cardboard cutout Colbert as he lay next to the fire in his immaculate, never-creasing suit from the video store... 'a truly great novel, hell, even some colorful memoirs can really cause some beneficial ripples in the pond...'
Jacob did all he could to follow the conversation... 'ah, hah, yes,' said Jacob, timing his answers now just to fit in with the musical cadence of the conversation, no longer able to muster the will to actually follow the actual words of the conversation.... such was the stress placed on his mind by the auditory and visual hallucinations....
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