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The burrito shop is hot and crowded, and I've already had to ask the cashier three times to repeat herself. I can see my burrito in her hands-- the only thing in this world I can claim to want, and yet somehow it still isn't mine.  
As she said all of this to me, her eyes kept darting to the curtains. As if she were afraid some Polonious was lurking behind them, listening.

I could see beads of sweat forming on her perfectly made up face, could see her manicured hands shaking. She whispere(more)
The grocery list sat so ominously on the kitchen table, any passerby would have thought it was a death threat.

Darkness. More than darkness. An emptiness so dense that Patrick could feel his own insides spilling further into him.  

"Where are we?" he asked. Even just the simple words seemed like a lightning bolt.  

We are before, said Aluna, her voice only sounding in his head. H(more)
She walked slowly through the aisles of the store, sliding her hand against all the linens. Each fabric coaxed her skin into bliss. She closed her eyes.
In music, pianissimo means "very soft". The space just above where sound doesn't exist.  Sometimes she felt that's what her life was.(more)
There are people that only you know.

At night, they wander, restless, muttering to themselves. They dance slowly, without a beat, through the creases of your brain. They twist and ebb to fit in the spaces.

There are people who can only speak with the voice y(more)
When you first meet him, he holds out his hand stiffly. He doesn't really seem to be looking at you, but rather at the spot just above your left shoulder. You get the urge to stand on tippy-toes so that you can meet his eye. You smile. He smiles(more)
As Mister Jacobson actually vibrated with energy, Mort stared at him glumly. Life was simply the worst. Day in and day out, the sun continued to shine. Birds insisted on endless chirping. People everywhere stretched there faces into the most horrifying upward curves, as if that could accomplish something.(more)
Her room is littered with to-do lists. Penned neatly on notebook paper like purple ink. They seem to cover the floor like a snow that has been sitting for years.

The bathroom door is open, a Barenaked Ladies song from the 90s playing from a radio somewhere.  You ca(more)