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TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

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


11.09.17

I find traces of himself everywhere in the house. Unfinished small bags of peanuts. Flecks of rolling tobacco. Half-used packets of gum. Stray lotto tickets. It's maddening, tidying after him. But if the house was always tidy and neat, I'd think something was weirdly missing in my life.




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