Sitting there I was mesmerized by the black and white hexagons. For every black stop sign, there was seven white signs. They moved within each other, creating different shapes, constantly evolving. To my left was a three foot swirl, made of a shiny metal. A design manufactured in a third world country, brought here to my fortunate life to enjoy by those that do not even notice this piece. Here I sit.
I moved slowly, not to trip. A black, skinny straw on the floor, swimming in less than octagonal shapes. How did it get here? Carelessness, maybe? Who cares. On my way. The mirror that shows no lies. Here I am.
I walk out the door, only to enter this world, your world.
Thank you.
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