Words: 11,164 • Date: May-16-2012

Three days after you asked The Question and I told you The Answer, you refuse to talk to me, but instead begin placing things in my locker, with a matching message for every item.

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Eraser

prologue

You asked, Gabby.

It was nothing, really. You just asked.

I answered.

It wasn’t a problem too. I just answered.

Then, you asked again.

A follow-up question.

This is the problem: I answered.

And it was the right answer, the not-lie, that had me realizing that I should’ve just answered with the lie anyway.

I said the truth, and you knew it.

That was what went wrong, because sometimes the right answer won’t fix things.

Sometimes it breaks.

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