Truth is, I’ve been spring-loaded my entire life. Life gets shot at me from point-blank range and I just shoot straight back. Which is okay if you’re John Wayne or De Niro saving the world, but when your chief nemesis is bubble-overrun it’s slightly less convincing. When you’re younger, you think you’re the only one. Special. Then you start seeing spring-loaded people everywhere. Sitting on buses. Kicking their dogs. Beating their children unconscious. Road rage. Trolley rage. Pew rage. Soul rage.
This from the book I’m currently reading, and rather enjoying, by a local Wellington author.