Audited in Smoke


The city kept its treasury locked behind marble and lies. I kept mine in a dented coffee tin under the sink—loose change, bad decisions, and names needing forgetting. Funny thing about value: theirs needed guards; mine needed forgetting. When they finally audited me, I handed them silence. It accrued interest faster than truth ever did. Then I sent an invoice.



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2 thoughts on “Audited in Smoke

    1. ¡Muchas gracias por tus amables palabras! Siempre es un placer saber que mis escritos llegan hasta Argentina. Me alegra mucho que el post haya sido de tu agrado. ¡Un abrazo grande de vuelta!

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