Until then, I’ll be in the corner. Back to the wall. Held together by pins and principle. And if you see me struggling, for the love of all that is holy—come help me zip.
You find a friend. Or a stranger. Or a very patient coat-check attendant. They grip the zipper. You hold your breath. They pull. The zipper makes a sound like a dying badger. The fabric bunches. And then—the sound that haunts my nightmares— ping . Stupid Bloody Fairytale Zip
I am talking, of course, about the .
The zipper pull comes off in their hand. Until then, I’ll be in the corner