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This week Galit Breen asked us to conjure something. An object, a person, a feeling, a color, a season- whatever we like.
But don’t tell us what it is, conjure it. In 100 words.
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i leave the doctor.
my tell-tale heart thuds. a jagged edge hangs in my throat. tears dribble.
i don’t like guessing games; i prefer the ive-been-there-before.
what if i try and try and i just can’t do it?
seems so much easier to just slice me open and take her out. like last time.
i know that time. it is written on me.
my fear unfurls.
the image of my body opening, yawning wide, and the blood.
not being in control. being splayed out. and on display.
scared.



