body piercing

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“I’m going to bed.” My mother gets up from the couch. I’m not looking at her, haven’t been for a while.

“When I see you tomorrow you’d better have taken that thing out of your nose.”

So much for self-expression, I think.

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Why do you keep doing this to us?

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Standing at the garden’s edge. Mom puts the shoebox in the dirt, covers it. Some tears. A word about death. My older sister looks bored.

“Can we get another one?” my little sister says before the hamster in the ground goes cold.