I found some memories of me on an old styrofoam cup.
I forgot I kept that cup.
It had perfectly sized bite marks all the way around the rim, petrified over time by the benzene and styrene oozing into the dimples as I had chewed around its perimeter.
It had a faint blue line circling the cup under my hardened bite, making a forensic crime scene for the perfect crime I can’t…
