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PHANTASMAGORIA
Click-click...and
I notice that
January 19 has vanished
from the school's email, the more
we wrote, the faster it moved down
the line, finally rotating off into
the outer reaches of
cyberspace,
until every digital trace, each
keystroke and electronic
pixel had simply disappeared,
the way the trail to a murder can grow
blank and cold. Oh, how easy life would be
if every bad memory just
flew bat-like out of the
mind's dark cavern...instead,
neurons, tangled
like seaweed, minnows
darting in and out,
maybe forever.
Two months after a murder
in my school
March 27, 2007