My friend stares directly at the sun, cups his cheeks with her palm—risking blister and burn. She is the picture of bliss. Rosy cheeks stark against white lace. They sway as one, slice through the cake with giddy imprecision. Her corset cinched so tight she kneels by the bleach bowl in prayer. She folds over, like a hanger’s hook. Bile stains the air.Alixa Brobbey is a writer and law student currently based in Utah.(Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash)
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