insert apex here

and it will be easter. a time to jam handfuls of little chocolate ovals down my throat, before smoothing and flattening the foil wrapper. it's an important part in the eating of the egg. ironing creases of an aluminum scrap with ones finger tips is an art. oh, the shimmer, the glint of chocolate's apparel. silver style at it's best.

and with easter comes this glorious gorge of milky, sugary clumps. and with easter comes the commemoration stabbing myself in the wrist with a snapped wine glass stem...

polish, polish polish. this cafe is so busy we are making lists. waiting lists, waiting lists, complaint lists. waiting lists. polish polish. the cloth works and twirls and de-smudges these wine vessles. i must work with haste. nimble fingers, rushing mind, scraping chair legs, strong. soy. flat. de. caf. whites. wine in throats. food in teeth. people in impatient spirits. and snap. the solid glass stem snaps and delves into my wrist.
in.
d
e
e
p.
stab.
out.
hole.
blood.
and it happens so fast, i don't feel anything at all. a crisp, clean puncture is remarkably, a pain free ordeal. until i see the ruby lagoon on the cafe kitchen floor. it's swelling and flowing into channels between the tiles. so i grab my wrist. curling my fingers around, covering the flesh gully. claret sqeezes between my fingers. drips down. down my arm. avenues of crimson syrup. drizzle. splash! trickle. splash.

and my face is chalk. my knees quiver...