So she poured herself some more coffee,
and put on some incomprehensible music
that sounded more like the accelerated pulse
of some static monster
than a melody,
and carried on.
Those pages kept turning.
The wind blew too fast,
she couldn't stick her thumb in the middle
to keep track
of where she left off.
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2011
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September
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- Dry
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- An analogy for senior year
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- Behind the Headlines
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- Full Moon
- Just a Minor Thing
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- Bottle it up
- Looking at the rain
- Without a sense
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