Sublimation Stories

No one knows, but me. It is my secret, the little iron box resting in the back of my brain. It is equal parts fear and salvation, laden with unspoken desires and unfulfilled hopes, each its own personification of Pandora, trapped in her own vessel. They are my colleague, sitting at her desk, engrossed in minutia. They are the blond girl with the intriguing snake tattoo, bringing my tea. They are the checker at my market,...