Chanel No. 5
In the evening, after an entire day spent scanning official documents and with his fingers trembling from all that dematerialization, a person might, as he his falling asleep, slap his forehead in the realization that he would feel better if, in the morning, he stopped doing his job and refused to wipe the dust of the scanner’s glass surface. Only the dusty bits of cellulose on his nasal membranes now remind him satisfactorily that, even though he is easily lost, he can just as easily still find himself.
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