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Refuge for the rational.

Saturday, January 29, 2005

There’s nothing like getting to the bottom of the glass and finding it dirty. Everything about that makes you feel sick and filthy and a quick ponder over familiar communicable diseases has you scratching your skin in discomfort. Can you get sick from that? But…what is that? You lean over the tan coffee cup, slightly in fear, slightly exhilarated. Had they not been wet, these little clear specks would have been invisible. Sugar dissolves, so it can’t be sugar. But, what the hell else could it be? Who puts anything else into a coffee cup? You look around as if the answer will be demonstrable at other tables, but everyone is sitting silently. A painted goth couple in the the corner opposite you sit looking angry and annoyed with each other. She looks like she hasn’t eaten in weeks, but she stabs at a piece of lemon meringue pie with no apparent intention to consume it. He begins tearing at empty sugar packets and dropping the pieces into his cup. Perhaps this is how the mysterious substance was deposited into your cup. Maybe it is wrong to fear things so. It certainly seems wrong to take out your fears on the cup. The cup is just having a bad day, making the rounds from person to person. The waitress comes to top you up and you force yourself to say “ok”.
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