Francesca Zagami says of herself:
"I feel as though I am that left sock that's disappeared from the dryer. You know you put it in, but somehow it manages to elude you and its match. It turns up years later, behind the dryer, mouldy and disgusting, long after you've disposed of the right one. It lay there all that time; wet, lonely, and scared. You shake your head at life's little mysteries, then into the garbage it will go ... forgotten and alone once more."
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Copyright © 2001 K. Kianush, Art Arena