CHANNILLO

Swan Song to a Gold-Plated Mausoleum by Priya Sridhar (3)
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the knife. He pressed the dull tip with sweaty fingers to make the blade retract before popping it out again.

“Let’s do that again,” he said in a thick German accent. “The lighting’s shit in here.”

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Swan watched from backstage, hugging her chest. She had changed into her outfit for the next skit, corset and all. Rue Morgue was on the center stage, singing an Elton John cover. They all wore shimmering golden and black suits.

So goodbye yellow brick road

Where the dogs of society howl

You can’t plan...

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