this morning #116.

this morning, she had no idea where the hell her toothbrush had gone. to make matters worse, she’d passed out last night without giving the ultimate future of her teeth a second thought. dragon breath. it didn’t take long for it to turn up in the crevice between the toilet & the wall, rendering her sans toothbrush. any remedy would involve finally going outside. getting back on the bike. interacting with indifferent teen CVS cashiers who would certainly see her as paranoid, as her eyes darted to & fro. she had to think of her teeth regardless. a hippie childhood dentist once told her that “your smile is your outer soul.” she supposed it made sense. her teeth were rotting off her face.