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TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile


11.15.03, saturday night

When I arrived at work this evening, there was a table of two who had just finished their plates. The woman (dark, tall, vivacious eyes) kept glancing in my direction so I thought she needed me. When I approached her table, she said, You're very beautiful. That was why I was staring. Her companion, a handsome young Chinese man, blushed.

. . .

Short story tattooed on the skin of more than a thousand volunteers.




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