My aura is like an hourglass - the sand fills the majority of my being. Too bad the DNA of my sand is made up of luck's evil twin, bad luck.
I want to drop my aura off my balcony and watch the glass shatter on the (gum-covered) sidewalk.
I could leave all my bad luck on the pavement - this black hole of bad luck will become single grains of mediocre luck.
OR, I could collect up every shard of my aura and bring it back home.
The newest skincare, set to hit beauty counters this summer: Beauty Age Defying luck; sliced, ground up, mashed to a pulp and baked at 300 degrees. These ingredients - recently discovered in the depts of your aura - combined with some other promotional bullshit, has unbelievable results.
Trust me, I've tried it.
Ophelia
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