Chapter 100:

C | Some Denial

Something's Not Right


I call her
over the dissonant music
she likes dancing to.

She looks at me

but her hair's in her eyes,
her legs stretched

at inappropriate angles.

I frown

and fold my arms

while she climbs down

from the pole.

I tell her about it
all the time—

she never listens.

It's part of the dance,
she says

with her signature
apologetic smile.

She approaches me now,

coming closer
than I expect,

so the stench of vomit and sweat overwhelms me.

I take a step back,

but I look around the room.

It looks

like the room of cupboards.

The walls in the corridor
leading to the studio

have been repainted

to cover up
the burnt marks

caused by the fire.

The carpet is replaced,

everything's back to normal
faster than mosquitos bite.

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