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In by Fannie on December 5, 2010 at 12:53 am

I’m on the floor.  Totally relaxed, totally face down on what I now see to be an impeccably dirty surface.  Not an inch from my nose is a small little dirt clod.  Tiny really.  But it has a friend, right next to it.  A big friend.  This one has a hair sticking out of its muddied complexion.   Over there I can make out a forgotten raisin and a chunk of stepped on brownie.  Poor little dudes.  Everywhere my eyes flit are specks of black and brown and of squishy and crumbly.  Floors are meant to be dirty.  I love it.

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