CIRCLE OF PENS

Suddenly, seemingly wide awake, he shot upright, indignant and demanding to know where I had hidden them. “I know you know where they are,” he said.

And I did. I could see them instantly: these pilots with smooth, round heads like sleek bullets in black and aircraft grey- standing straight and head to head, making a cool cartridge belt of possibilities.

I shrugged him off. “I’m sorry. I don’t know,” I said and slid from the covers, left the bed: still see-through and half sleep-dead.



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