Monogatari Slides -

She drops the rest into a storm drain. The plastic wrapper snags on a grate. It looks like a ghost flag.

“There is no missing slide,” the girl says, and now her head turns—a full 180 degrees, like a barn owl. Her eyes are the color of old television static. “There is only the slide you refuse to make. The one where you stop looking for him in the grooves.” monogatari slides

She picks up a brush. She has no idea what to paint. She drops the rest into a storm drain