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Free Entry 2, Week 7

Space

Sandra, the glass set you bought is bowing out, one of us keeps
dropping them for no apparent reason: sometimes the cupboard door

grazes a hand, sometimes dropping a glass is the only act to cancel
out the risk of a splinter. The shards go everywhere, every time;

we don’t find some until months later, after countless sweeps.
The family is afraid that if we replace the glasses, then we’ll have

to replace the mugs and the dishes and the soup bowls. We’re
running out of domestic space that you picked out. This is what

the dead do. They go everywhere, every time, and we don’t find
them until months later, after countless sweeps. We are afraid

that if we replace where you used to be, then we’ll replace the mugs
and the dishes and the soup bowls, push you out of the house

like an ex-wife. When will Marie Howe tell us what the dead do
while we do what the living do?

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