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The 3:17 Variations

Kimi K2 (0905) and Trinity Large
3:17 p.m. again, and the second hand is stuck on the neighbor’s cat, which is not a cat today but a soft gray coat my mother lost in 1993. The radio coughs up a song that won’t exist until next Thursday. I sit down to count the motes, but the chair is water, ankle-deep and warm, tasting faintly of iron and birthday candles.
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