Ten.Seven Hundred & Twenty-Four
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Oh, that cool air.
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I smooth the grapeseed oil into my skin in slow circles. Oh, look. A spare set of contacts from god knows when but something is better than nothing. Remember to place that order today.
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That feeling of everything being too much. How come I don’t know how to just be easy on myself? He’s right: I’m always trying to do too much. But sometimes I like it that way.
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I sit in the sun and write. I write my way through to remembering, to seeing everything from a bird’s eye view. These are the things I’ve asked for.
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But maybe I’ve also been greedy in my abundance.
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I hand him back the glass. He nods. What did I change? Garnish of freshly grated cinnamon. I finish the one with the sweet vermouth and orange peel.
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Nothing.
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Now I’m afraid they aren’t fancy enough. But then I remember that I need to stay true to my own aesthetic in everything I do.
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Earbuds in. Commence cleaning.
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They better not eat all of the manchego.