purplish blue

18 Mar

in the office, it’s cold. i’m cold and there’s four hours left. the beds of my nails turn a purplish blue and i wonder if it’s the light or if i’m really dying. i can still taste the garlic on my tongue from the sandwich i ate at lunch, and its hour-old flavor is nauseating. i sip water and i nibble on sweet tarts to pass the time, but it moves as if i’m watching it, as if it knows how badly i need it to hurry.





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