one day we’ll all be ghosts….

from something I’m working on….

…pinecones in perfect symmetry on her desk beneath a large mirror. Beside the mirror are pictures she’s collected over years, pictures she took of abandoned places overgrown with weeds. She remembers when she begged Bear to pull over so she could take the pictures with her phone, and he asked her why, what’s the big deal, hooom? She never responded, she just ran and took photos and now she looks at those pictures she printed up from her computer, and she thinks angry thoughts, hateful thoughts. She turns around and walks towards the window before she does something stupid like tear down the photos and burns them or something.

That would be stupid, right? Right?

She looks outside through the panes of glass and sees something she doesn’t want to see: five or so people all with red umbrellas even though it wasn’t raining, all dressed in ill fitting suits with skinny black ties. The suits were either too small or too large and even the women wore suits and their faces were all hidden by cartoonish animal masks. She wasn’t sure, but Molly thought she saw them look away from her the minute she went to the window, like they were avoiding her look, like they didn’t want her to see them watching her.

She quickly closes the curtains and sits on her bed and tries not to think about them, or the photographs or anything else. To distract her mind she goes and re-arranges her pine cones by the most pleasing smell (sticky pine smell), and then arranges her smooth stone collection in the bathroom by texture, and then she scrubs her tub and washes the bathroom floor and then the toilet and then the sink.

When she’s done the house smells like cleaner and she’s lying with flat back on hardwood floors, trying to achieve a moment when all thoughts stop, all memories stop, and she just stops existing and that’s it, that’s what she wants, to stop existing.


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