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He’s talking about his
friend living on
the other side of the
country and speaking in an
entirely different language. He asks
her who she knows and
in what language she knows
them in. Before she can answer
they hear a voice cutting through
the void like a beam of light. It
ask her who she is and what she wants.
She puts her
money on the table and digs
her hands into her dress.
His eyes are like
sayings, only worth reading once.
She doesn’t say a word, is instead
frozen and tragic, a fossil
of inquisition. A crystallization
of pumpkin spice.

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