a year ago, i found a plain black mask with my aussie date in a bodega in new york. it sat in a container under my bed for nearly 12 months until a wave of ritalin-infused insomnia hit me last night. i covered it twice with black glitter, made her into a red and golden-eyed vixen. i limped around on my cane and knee braces, letting out barely-audible groans as i worked my way in and out of the apartment, giving my creature an extra touch of top-coat shine in the warm air. As i stared at this goddess, i smiled and imagined wearing a new identity to a costume gala or even a masked surprise party…it took less than 5 seconds for the lump in my throat to hit me. with glistening eyes, i reached for the cap on my head and my cane and my back screamed at me for standing too quickly and with too much force. once again, cleopatra was placed in the container under my bed. i sealed it and hobbled back to my sober existence.