Written by Jacob Ibrag
‘This isn’t a joke,’ she whispered. I wasn’t laughing,
and yet I wasn’t being serious. Reduced to a ghost in a dream,
the kind that tries to guide the sleep. I was awake in this moment,
and she was stuck between states. ‘This isn’t a joke,’ I repeated.
She wasn’t laughing, and yet she wasn’t being serious.
Photo by Sweet Ice Cream Photography
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