Can’t

This cannot be true. It cannot possibly be happening. The cold in the early morning hours, the pushing of stuff on the streets, the questions without answers. None of this can be real. None of this can have anything to do with the real person inside. The outside has to be fake. There is no other way to explain it. The outside has to be somebody else’s act, somebody else’s responsibility. It has nothing to do with the person known to be the woman. The fake show has to be a complete stranger to her.

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