2002-03-01 || 4:54 p.m.

|| garage sale ||

you take things to heart in an old backgammon case, set up shop on a rickety card table that has been holding your spirits up for seventeen years. you buy the old fashioned sales tags at the stationers store and bear the task of appraisal. you are holding things in your hands, weighing them, tracking origins and history, converting this into prices. you take pride in your handwriting. you know no one's going to buy anything at what their worth. you're crossing numbers out with a green felt pen until you're left with hieroglyphics hanging from strings and a table full of vital organs you don't really want to give away anyway.

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