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March 28, 2007
Her left eye is gone, like a peach without a pit, yet she winks at you with her good eye while you purchase your ticket. Her hole so vacant you wish you could see your reflection instead. You pass her the coin and she rips a two-sided red ticket from a spool. She rips the half that reads ADMIT and hands you ONE. You are grateful to look at something other than her hole and run your finger on the jagged edge of the ticket. “Have a nice show,” she says, and you notice an incisor is gone. “I did.”