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September 3, 2014

Electric kettle in hand, I pivot in place before the window streaming with afternoon sunlight. I marvel. When turned about on itself, the kettle catches the light in its metal surface and scatters it in glints to all sides. In time with my steps and the shifting kettle, bands of reflected light whirl, stripe the tiling and open up a glass sphere around me, from inside of which I watch the afternoon dilate and contract and dilate.

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