A board game balances lopsided on top of the rest, ascending by size.

Dried splatters besmirch the window over the sink.

Spider veins form purple imperfections on your feet.

You could scream at the muddiness of the world. The sprawling chaos and decay. The dirt, the dust, the disorder. You could go crazy trying to maintain it.

Or, you can just do your best. And remember in the back of your mind that everything is made of dust, and all disorder is part of a higher Order.



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