The original text. Unaltered, ☜ except where noted.

Contents ☞ 📓

Chapter Twelve 🏠

An ad for sheets.


The refrigerator motor cycled on again, and a puff of cold air, dusted through with baking soda, blew against my face, scattering the dark scents of last night. I stood up, pushed the vegetable bin back into the refrigerator and closed it. It was now perfectly clean. Of course, I also considered not telling Jack anything at all, but I was more afraid of making the orgy invisible, of filling the ever-growing space between us with an insane circus of bodies that only I could see. So I went in to clean the living room, feeling like a dog with my face being pressed into the mess I had made.

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