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The Onlookers

They knew that – some of them did. Some of them watched her, silently encouraging her to sit, sit and shut down. Not sit and be mindfully relaxed. They wanted her to sit and remove herself from the world. The others wanted her to be active – get the things she loved doing done. Relaxing was unnecessary. There was time to relax when she was old, decrepit, and basically dead. The rest, the small population hiding through and behind the others wanted her to cease to exist. Rebecca knew it. She could feel it weaving through the stares of the others. All of them moving silently through the air, tangled together, weighted down and unwilling to move from their corner.

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Selling the Internet

He had crazy eyes and horned hair. It wasn’t really horned hair, but it was hair that separated, parted, and seemingly gelled down into a strange combination of a face frame that tried to do a swoosh. The look in his eyes was that feeling of constant fear of needing to pee and not knowing where the restrooms were or anyone to ask. He was off putting to say the least. His business partner looked more like his adult supervisor – an older, fuddy-duddy man playing dress up in a suit and tie in a strange attempt to exceed professionalism against the horn-haired child in dark jeans and a dark blue, plaid button up shirt.