PREVIEW
... e a stage set for someone else’s play. Pavements gleam from the afternoon rain, and the crowd moves with a purpose I don’t share. Then again, there purpose is controlled by someone else.
A definite pattern.
That’s what these puppets follow.
I walk without aim, my steps light, my body slipping through their currents like a ghost no one bothered to believe in.
I had covered my face with a mask. The jacket on my body, protected me from unnecessary attraction.
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