#90

She had been second.

All week she had been reading a book with a narrator who may be the last woman alive or may be crazy or may be both crazy and the last woman alive. All week she had been reading a book about confusing representations of the world with the real world. All week she had been reading a book where a person makes the world and the world in turn makes the person.

She had been second.

She was one of two.

But because the first did not want what was offered, she was now standing looking up at a golden ceiling made even more gold by the evening sun. The ceiling was hers.

She had been second.

And now she’s the only one.