l'll admit to it. I am a lottery ticket i will never win I am a l'll admit to it. I am a lottery ticket i will never win I am a thousand puzzle pieces of white I am a trickster magician, I’m sorry you lost your quarter.

Among the dice that is life there is a shell. Discarded homes used for growth. The words “vacancy” is a halo circling my head. My body is home to a saint.

“ 2 weeks notice of an empty chair. Go ahead and see how we care.

• You’re replaceable, we’ll find another, possibly better, you’re spare parts. Cheeks flushed, boxes packed, your self-congratulatory thoughts are almost visible.

-You’re the one walking away, we gave you every chance, we gave you ever opportunity, yes, we could have done a little better but who’s perfect? Our effort is what counts, and you’re letting us down, and we don’t - we can’t stress this enough - we don’t CARE.

• Chalk it up to insubordination or unhappiness or whatever “synergetic” corporate-barrel speak vocabulary word you want; this won’t change the facts.

Have we mentioned how little we care? We laugh at you not knowing just how many of you there are out there. You weren’t the worst, you weren’t the best, you were just there because you came along at the very time you came along. But now comes the next one. The moment you left is the moment we began replacing you. “

Oh how loud this projection would ring if loudness correlated with satisfaction. But I knew this to not be a fact of life. That’s just how it is. The truth is, I wished I could hear it, not because it’s what I needed but because I knew I would be better off now that I’ve left...

So why do I feel scared?

Just as I am replaceable to them, they are to me. Analogies are elementary for a reason: they’re rarely without at least a seed of truth. A good analogy is to truth as a good analogy is to a bad analogy: confusing, over-complicated, and quite honestly, distracting from reality at this very moment.

Oh yeah, I forgot the elevator does that weird stutter-close thing unless I press the “close” button rapidly. Oh but here comes that guy who I always had friendly conversation about the local sports team. Oh dear, I’m going to seem rude. Oh no, now he’s seen me make eye contact while continuing to press the button repeatedly. Oh no. Maybe he would unders - oh no now the door is closed.

I will never see the other side of this door again. How freeing.

Oh, wait, it’s opening again. Oh I forgot that if you press the directional button outside while the elevator is still on the floor, regardless if it’s taken off yet or not, it will re-open to a very awkward air.

Funny.

Maybe I’m scared because I didn’t feel as if they did me wrong and that I’m entitled to good comings. Maybe I’m scared because I doubt myself too much. Maybe karma is relative and that by the fruits of my own labor bears karma.

Whatever it is, karma is to a hole in a one way window between reality and reflection as analogies are to the complexities of an over complicated perspective.

Depending on which side you’re on, karma can be a beautiful thing.

The moonlight shined on the already illuminated and newly tarmacced road. Luckily there were no working surveillance cameras on this street; they had been cut off last night when the massive bolt of lighting mutilated the mast from which power was emitted.

The body led lifeless in the priceless carpet that Mary had once lucked out and found at a car boot sale in Connecticut whilst on holiday there in 2012: “i’m sure this will come in handy one day when I need it most”, she thought to herself as she handed over the measly £20 note; she was thinking something more along the lines of selling it when her future kids needed college tuition or their first car - however, fast forward 5 years and here she was - ironically with 4 other law students - carrying a body in the exact same rug. It was saturated in blood. Dripping with what once represented life.

The 5 law students collectively burned the body, so as to destroy any evidence (this was an informal joke or tip that was mentioned in their law class ran by professor Analease Keating, whom’s dead husband was now suffering in fire, blood, and anguish).

A phone buzzed. The students checked their pockets frantically - with sweat dripping from their foreheads. Once they finally discovered that it was their victims phone - they hesitated to read it, but upon deliberation decided they had to. “Depending on which side you’re on, karma can be a beautiful thing - A”. To any normal murderer, this would be frightening - but to law students, this was perfect timing. If any evidence was left behind by them, then the seemingly anonymous sender of this text was a perfect key suspect to introduce in place of themselves. They poured more gasoline on to the fire, like adding unnecessarily to the damage they had already caused - then fled.

Whatever you do next, I’ll never forget that day in the summer. That day you betrayed me and everything that had built between us. You know I still don’t speak to my sister for the part she played. I never understood how easy deceit could be for some people until I learned how long my heart and my blood had been sneaking away from my eyes from behind my back. It’s fine now. I’ve calmed down. It’s been a long road to get from here to there, but I understand myself better. The truth is I know now that I wasn’t as hurt as anyone else would’ve been. I know that I’ve never been the weak and meek type. My world doesn’t end because of some insignificant girl who would risk love for lust.

Look now, I’ve come home with a true Queen. Her majestic glow has this little town of ours talking. It’s funny how seeing you didn’t bring the faintest dash of pain. What I didn’t know back then was the shocked expression you carried was less about me and more about her. I told you “we’re getting married.” You welled with tears and ran away. My darling said she left you once. We never spoke again. I guess karma had the last say.

And the Earth was created. And the sun and the moon and the stars. Three beings to watch over this newborn planet.

There was the Light. The sun. Bringer of life and harbinger of death. She brings forth flora and fauna from the earth and scorches them to skeletons. Shines unto the shadows and disperses fears and ne’er-do-wells. She kisses the horizon and slips beyond.

Giving way to the Dark. The moon. Master of tides and seasons. Master of storms and mystery. She controls the seven seas, with her children the Winds. She can spread an endless winter night across the desert and flows from shape to shape to nothing.

When she is absent, there is Karma. The stars. Ever-present, scarcely-visible. Twinkling in the night and spying in the day. One is assigned to your soul. To watch. To judge. To report to the Light and the Dark about what your fate should be. Have you wronged the sun? Lamented over cooler evenings and cursed her brilliance? Have you spoken ill of the moon? Claimed her to be inferior or willed her to change phase for personal gain?

The stars hear your mind’s whispers. You will receive burnt earth and burnt flesh. You will experience harsh Winds and harsh luck. Because we, the pinpricks of light in the Dark and the convergence of blue in the Light, observe and pull the strings. But it’s you who doom yourself. Hold up a mirror and you will see this. The majesty of this infant world. The complexity of cause and effect. Depending on which side you’re on, Karma can be a beautiful thing.

Karma, the thing that holds the universe together, is after me. Whether I’m on its good side or not, it’s always there. I feel it’s gnashing teeth upon my heart. My boyfriend broke up with me and he’s with another girl, breathe My dog died, breathe I have insomnia, breathe and finally I believe I can do anything! “Depending on which side you’re on, karma can be a beautiful thing.”