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[ArticleMedia]
Monday, December 14, 2009
By Camille A.
Advertising
I walk,$0slowly, silently along the busy sidewalk.$0Alone, concentrating on each step I take.$0Step,$0Step,$0Step,$0$0I stop. The building is big and beautiful.$0Stained glass windows, and marble walls$0Though my attention is distracted.$0$0The cold hard man sits stiffly on the pillar$0on the perimeter of the stairs as if he were not there.$0He sits alone, positioned to be pondering on something,$0but shows no emotion.$0We are alike, so similar in many ways.$0$0We are one. I feel him. I watch as his$0expression softens as mine hardens.$0His skin tanning into a soft and light$0olive color. My hands, darkening and hardening$0to a gray marble color. $0$0My muscles tighten and harden into place.$0My skin cold, hard, like the stone on the $0marvelous walls of the building.$0Inside I am hollow, empty, and feel nothing$0of any kind of emotion, though physically$0I am aware.$0$0My expression duplicates the visage that$0once belonged to the man on the pillar.$0I slowly sit in the position I once only viewed.$0I stop and relax. Slowly slipping away from my once$0conscious mind.$0$0... I am the man on the pillar.
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