So strange...as soon as I exit the office doors I reclaim my identity. Actually, it is more accurate to say that my identity becomes restored. Girl exists in serpentine shoes, eyes beiged over with dead haze. Each smile brings a glitter to my skin. A welcome hue of vibrance. Raise your chin, why not smile... "my you look lovely today ." I pivot in dread as the nineteenth door opens my dress begins to fade. First a small tatter, then the skin absorbs into ether; no signal vanishes.
Because it exists and so do I...