Bones of an Hour

A persistent itch lingers along my right leg, by the inner side of my knee. Dry skin. Proverbial irritation. Constant ire. No amount of rubbing the outer surface allows a sense of relief. I feel as if I am settled in a case of pins and needles. Prickling annoyances.

•10/ The bones of an hour are revealed slowly, with soft flesh becoming angular, tense, abstracted against the histories of the room, the tongued stories in the walls—
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