I Put On My Real Face

It didn’t arrive with a label. No note. Just a box, waiting. Inside was the face I’d asked for…almost. Close enough to make my breath catch. Close enough to wear. And when I slipped it on, it blinked when I blinked. It smiled when I smiled. Everyone believed it was me…the real me…Even me.
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It Always Sleeps On The Floor

We were mid-moan, tangled in sweat and sheets, when I looked up—and it was there. Too tall. Too still. Watching with eyes it doesn’t have. I didn’t scream. I couldn’t. I just kept choking on fear while he kept moving, unaware we weren’t alone.
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