Friday has many miles to travel before it sleeps.
The midnight hours no longer held mystery. Before, she assumed they were fragranced with a subtle and exotic perfume, now she knew that they were like the early night, but harsher in their fluorescent light and faintly blurred, buzzing edges. The bitterness of coffee spilling into the memory of a pillowslip cool against the cheek.
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1 comment:
Loved your piece by the way. I think I was way too scatterbrained on Friday to really make a decent go at it.
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