From Issue 14: Wall

Brooke Randel   Dad had navy blue lint between his toes again. I was lying on the couch, staring at his fuzzy feet. “What’s going to happen at midnight?” I asked. “Nothing,” he told me. “I mean, when midnight is over.” “You know this. Time will end and we’ll start going backwards.” “And it’s all the same? I’ll ask you this question again?” “I don’t know. We’ll see.” “But what do you think?” “I think we’ll see.” The microwave clock glowed a faint blue, still visible from my spot on the couch. We were an hour away from the end…

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