Her parents once told her she was an accident, and as the years tumbled by she grew into a catastrophe. She told me; I’m gatecrashing a party here. I have no rules. I have no (finger quotes) dress – code. I exist in a vacuum. I am in the empty spaces. I am life.
Or maybe the echo chambers. I didn’t say that. It came to me years later whilst going over our conversations again and again and again, trying to find a clue. I realise now that my one-liner would’ve killed her. She would’ve laughed, thrown her head back to show me those home-made fillings, those gaps where her brother forced her skull into a doorframe before violently closing it, the tongue chewed into ridges by dreams of murder and foxes eating people alive. Of course, even if the reply had come to me in the moment, I wouldn’t…
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