Quickly Packaged.

April 22, 2011
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Thousands and thousands of paper cranes litter the floor, memories folded into the oragami paper. Her ratty sneakers crunch over them, like autumn leaves, shades of red and orange. She stops.

"What do you want?"


"So why am I here?"

He shrugs, smiling with his eyes. She smirks. It is hard to explain what they are to each other. In one lifetime, they are best friends. In another world, they're in a relationship. In a different one, they're nothing but strangers who bumped into each other on the sidewalk. An eye through carved sea glass, will show them as siblings, neighbors, classmates, friends and enemies. Their relationship is interchanging but in every universe, inevitable. They are everything and nothing to each other.

"Honestly, though. Why am I here? I thought you said I couldn't come back."

Her hands are on her hips, staring at him with the same hesitation a rabbit would give to a passer-by deer.

"You can't. I'm a bit bored."

"Well, how is this my problem?"

"It's not. I guess you can leave if you want,"

She bites her lip, musing the pros and cons of staying.

"Eh. I'll stay for a bit,"

She turns, faces the wall closest to her, tiny scribble scrabbles all over. She walks closer, eyes squinting to read the miniscule handwriting.

'I wish Daddy would get better. - I wish she loved me. - I wish for a pony. - I wish for a perfect score on my AP Euro exam. - I wish for faith. - I wish for hope. - I wish for him to notice me. - I wish I didn't have cancer. - I wish for one more wish. - I wish the world was a utopia. - I wish for world domination. - I wish for my dreams to come true. - I wish that I wasn't so fat. - I wish -

She turns her head and faces the next wall, which was covered top to bottom in expired MetroCards.

"Are those from when you went to New York?"

"Nope. A present from a friend,"

Her eyes widen and her fingers fiddle with loose threads on her Elmo skinny jeans.

"I thought you said no one else could come here?"

"They can't"

They stare at one another. She tilts her heads and narrows her muddy brown eyes, searchng for the definition of life in his ocean blue iris'.

*The sudden images of* babies crying and children dropping vanilla ice cream and hipsters smoking their cigarettes and goths leaning on walls and cheerleaders screaming GOTEAMGO and Walmart sales people going HelloisthereanythingIcanhelpyouwith and alcoholics taking a swig and potheads taking a hit and idiots laughing and fireworks bursting over Mickey Mouse's head and *life bloomed and blossomed all over the pages of her mind*.

"Well. Okay. I'm gonna leave now."

He gets up from the worn navy couch, stretches his arms then walks to her, his pace lazy and slow.

"You might need this,"

He hands her a paper crane, her fingers passing through his like fog, smoke twining up delicately into the air.

"Make a wish,"


She wakes.

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