The Week the Tubes of Pringles Just Live on the Dining Table

They stand in rows looking around the room at the meats, the breads, cheeses, the paper plates with reindeer running, fizzy pop, odd jars, name tags, cellophane, lost glitter. They listen to voices making any sound they think they have to make. They wait patiently for hands to escape, to just be themselves.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

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