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fade in:

 

i was doing the rounds in a cement courtyard, they let anyone in, dreadful security—by all means, hire local talent to run the doors, see where it takes you in terms of cumulative shanking

this serious girl with a documentary got me by the arm started walking

listen who should I do my next movie with

dear do you have a next movie, i asked

no ma’am

then why are we having this conversation

besides, mighty wild of you to think so far ahead, are you aware in three to five years society will be collapsing

she went white she said right, the apocalypse

 

fade out.

 

now, i’m no particular fan of the “walk with me” set piece

career advice is nothing you can’t fix with a phone call from the comfort of your own block

and yet: sincere children always have to be closing

 

was i mean to the breaking girl? no, but

i could have played along, not this one see that one, be her diving board one two jump into the nocturnal pit, the shock corridor auntie

i should have passed her a bag of licorice rolls

eat up, vanessa, you must know life is pain interrupted by long stretches where nothing of consequence happens, plus, i do see little to no point in producing material goods in a world about to blow

i wasn’t gonna bang the drums to walk a bright young thing to the abattoir anyway

the catherine woolf dress was blatant false advertising on my end

 

i could have played the future game

will i be pretty will i be rich, but then again

no

 

i summer between 1986 and 2039

it’s nice, it rains.



Barbara Genova (she/her/them) is the pen name of a woman who got stranded in Central Europe during the first of many Covid lockdowns. She writes the column “Dirt City” at Bureau of Complaint. Selected credits include Hobart, Expat Press, Misery Tourism, and IceFloe Press.
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