Eighth Floor

In the sci-fi short story, Stanley Toothbrush, the protagonist repeats words over and over, until they become nothing but nonsense syllables. As soon as the word loses all meaning to him, the object described by the word ceases to exist. The first word to suffer this treatment is “shelf.” I have to agree, the more you say it, the more absurd the word “shelf” becomes.

I feel the same way about the word “eighth.” However, I will refrain from giving it the Stanley Toothbrush treatment and disappearing the eighth of every object from existence. Because then the ninth would become the eighth and disappear. And then the tenth would become the ninth would become the eighth and disappear. And so on. So, basically, I could cause the universe to collapse by disbelieving in the word eighth. And I would have had no where to pose, today.


Shirt, Levi’s (thrifted). Skirt, Herman Geist (vintage and shortened). Shoes, BCBGeneration. Hat, Charming Charlie. Sunglasses, Target. Bag, Canvas.