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“Through a Glass” by Alixa Brobbey

The day before the world unlocked into geometric shapes, trees were blobs. Angles were rounded, glowing things, every object blending into its neighbor.

The way the world unlocked, it rather shattered into a million tiny grains. Trees became petals dotted with veins, but fog threatened to cloud the scene.

So, imagine the joy of godly bifocals, seeing both star and seed, both wrinkles and woolen whispers, both balm and bile, salt and sweet, all stretching and shrinking through eternity.

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