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hipstamirror

tingly fingers.

For all practical purposes, the evening ends with manuel and I in a dark bathroom ending the not-quite contest of long-term arm extension that started a half hour previous for no particular reason. I think that I joined in as a way of not falling asleep while sprawled out on the floor. Whether my not having set my hand on fire earlier in the evening was an advantage is pretty much unknowable.

Soon after the truce, and much after arriving at Samantha's party, listening to music, discussing the potential hierarchy imposed in the event of a plane crash and a particular attendee's expert construction of fern huts, viceroyships of spits, and other party fun, I walk home. Up a few hundred feet of steps, under the freeway, and along nearly abandoned streets. Walking from one end of this town to the other is surprisingly possible. All without running into anyone at all.

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