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That Thing They Call

All that living she was doing. Didn’t have any of that time. Underneath applications were tickets to shows, a closet with perfect nighttime outfits visible through the half-opened closet door. Fitting herself in her purse before slinging it over her shoulder. Deciding against taxis and hoofing it. She could measure her impact underneath the peering buildings that way. The height just reminded her that underneath it all were basements where the space between two people was just enough to breathe and they called it dancing.

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