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  • Writer's pictureDanika Miller

Three Sentence Story

At first I thought this was just a musical but apparently it’s a ballet because she’s spinning and spinning like children who want to see the world turned upside down and it’s like a spinning ceiling fan you wouldn’t dare touch, or like a blindfolded party guest trying to find the tail end of things, or like a snowflake that’s twirling down into a lack of individuality, or like a carousel with mirrors and I catch glimpses of myself but it takes a moment to recognize, or like how our car spun when that truck didn’t stop at the light.

Her leg stretches, inviting us.

It’s my turn and I rise from my seat in the mezzanine, their faces turn towards me in distress and I give my soliloquy.

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