Photo by Samantha Gades on Unsplash
The birthday girl looked up from her spot in the armchair, where she had spent the majority of the last three years. Or maybe the last five, or seven. She couldn’t remember.
The room looked different somehow. Had there always been this much light?
19, 20, 21… it was all a blur. Those years were supposed to have been the best of her life. Yet, she rationalized, she had always been ahead of the curve. Maybe it was only fair.
Maybe no one really liked their twenties anyway.
She stood up and began to get ready for her party.


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