![]() It was the way of the suburbs to imagine that the exotic and chaotic lurked beneath the quotidian surface. It was one of those backyard parties where, in a movie, everyone would start sex-swinging or be secretly in a coven or perhaps be complex robots unaware of their own nature. (Which, Karl thought, they would appreciate and compliment him for.) Karl could see his convex reflection on its’ shiny, perfectly smooth surface. Smoke got sucked into the sides of the contraption and kept it from the women’s hair and clothes. The pit was tubular, silver, and more than a little phallic. The backyard s’mores party for the neighborhood kids on the last day of school was the perfect time for Karl to show off his new fire pit. ![]()
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