I drew a circle around my head, bouncing the broken piece of
chalk over the rough irregularities in the asphalt. It grew smaller with every
loop, harder to hold onto, fracturing in the divots and cracks, artifacts from
mistakes long forgotten or never noticed. The chalk spat its last neon breath out
on the street, but I kept my frantic rhythm, blending fingernails into blacktop
like mixing watercolors, blurring my bright halo with numb, rusted red.
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