- HighwireAct
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Pozzo's Hat
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Day 8: Woke up from a nightmare. In my dream, I died.
But that was the good part.
I felt myself ascend from my body, infused with a trembling lightness, like the air after a thunderstorm has moved on and the pressure lifts. I was headed up, not down, so I knew I had been a good girl. I kept the CheeseFaith.
Up I went, through wreaths of cloud until I reached the angels.
They were milling about, standing in groups, sitting with their heads in their hands, checking their phones. States of paralysis and despair. Some of them clutched objects close to their bodies, like holy relics.
I knew what those objects were. I didn't want to know what those objects were.
Still I floated, pulled by a helium string, past the angels, straight to the podium of St. Peter.
But it wasn't St. Peter. It was a hostess. Behind her I could see the familiar faux-Arabian interior I know so well.
She told me it would only be 45 minutes.
Dear Diary, the angels were clutching buzzers.
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Jul 1, 2016 21:29
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