the smuggler’s bible


The new year arrives in a cardboard box with Oriane’s name printed on it. She cuts the tape and pulls it out of its little styrofroam cradle. It seems okay, she thinks. No obvious defects, but you can’t be sure until later, way past the return window has closed, it’s just how they design these things.

“Are you going to keep in on the shelf with the old one?”

“No. I threw it out already.”

“But it was still good.”

“Actually,” Oriane says, looking the new year over dubiously, wondering where the first cracks will appear, “it kind of sucked.”