Something Like This

You roll the dice and take your licks, and if you’re just a little bit lucky, you make it out through the other side. Not everyone does though. They look at the world through a film, never lay their hands on it proper. Not really part of it, like those cut out dolls kids used to play with, paper tabs folded back over shoulders and around thighs, holding their outfits or masks on.

But never right up against. You could always blow between them, and laugh at the whistling sound it made, something like the wind across a bottle’s neck.


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