My kitten heels click against stone.
I speak to two and a half people.
Three girls who found my ex-girlfriend
on Instagram look at me like they are god.
I walk the other way.
The preschoolers give me applesauce.
I color elephants purple.
Apparently, elephants cannot be purple.
Maybe this elephant ate too much grape jelly?
The council considers. They say ok.
I toe-walk into the service;
my heels do not click-clack
and so maybe I am not here.
I sit in the back. I put myself in airplane mode.
I lip-read an eighth of the sermon.
Heaven.
Jesus.
Bread.
Yes, I agree. Bread is the answer. Amen.
I take communion because no
is such a long word.
Bella says
Something,
bla, bla, bla,
sin.
Bla, bla, bla,
hell, something, Rachel?
Bella’s face is lukewarm.
I laugh. Murmur, I gotta go.
I find the Nintendo Switch upstairs.
I am Princess Peach and a preschooler is Luigi.
They finish in first. I finish in eleventh.
This is not last place.
The preschooler looks at me like they are god.
I laugh again because maybe they are.