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51 lines
1.4 KiB
Text
51 lines
1.4 KiB
Text
.LP
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.ce
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.ps 16
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.CW
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DUCHESS OF MASKS
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.R
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.ps 8
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.CW
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tags: 1993, saito, violet
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.R
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.PP
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.ps 10
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What I hold in my left hand is different from what I hold in my
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right. What is on my face is different still. I have so many choices
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of how to proceed.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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At any moment an alarm will sound and I will be discovered. Sitting
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in this chair, looking over these files, wearing whichever face has
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fallen into place as they burst through the door. How will they see
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me? It is of no consequence what they will think.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The gray backdrop of what I have learned here throws what I know of
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our history into menacing relief; paper shadows under fluorescence and
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lost thoughts in the drawer. Which eyes will I use to record these
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discoveries? With no apparent prejudice I select a mask and peer
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through its gates, rifling numerous papers and file folders spread
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across the floor. A slender cord tethers me to the machine under my
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cushioned seat, which interprets the ambient state of the room.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Through these eyes.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Oh, Saito. I am afraid that I cannot clean these tracks from the
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floor. Your actions have plunged a polished knife into the swollen
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belly of our tracking. It is, in fact,
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.I
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you
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.R
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who is splayed out here on
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the floor. A descending pattern of guilt.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Would that I were here when it happened, all those years ago.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Would that you had listened.
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