The Mannequin Farm

I think I’m finally at the point where I’m able to talk about it. It’s been several years since it happened. None of us – not me, nor my friend, brother, or brother’s friend, who also experienced it – have ever told a living soul, and rarely mention it to …

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There’s too much choice. I can’t possibly decide. People hurry past me; all sorts of people of different heights and skin tones and shapes and faces. Every single one of them seems to be in a rush. And they all seem to know where they’re going. I am a statue …

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