February 7, 2009
Clutter clouds her brain, propelling hot tears from her eyes, water cascading down the plains of her face, parallel rivers racing to the finish-line, her lips contorting, involuntarily stretched to the side as if by magnetic force, trembling, her eyes now glazed, staring far off into the distance, memorizing the trappings of a life, so appealing, so easy, close enough that the pads of her fingertips brush up against it but her palm cannot grasp it.

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