.number eight.

.number seven.

.number six.

.number five.

.number four.

.number three.

These glasses are defective. They said I’d see the future, but I don’t.
Yes, I polished them, read the instructions.
They don’t work.
Of course I’m sure.
When I put them on, you’re still there.

.number two.

Each time the outside rushed in, she tugged her scarf a little tighter. But never turned.
She wanted to. Again and again.
Art was not a lie, she thought. It was something to look at.