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STASHING MY SEVERED ARM BEHIND SOME BOXES, I CASUALLY WALK OUT OF THE
AISLE. THE AGITATED CROWD GIVES ME A CURSORY GLANCE, AND THEN BEGINS
SEARCHING THE AISLES, LOOKING AROUND WITH PUZZLED LOOKS ON THEIR FACES.
THEY PERSIST FOR ABOUT FIVE MINUTES, THEN THEY ALL SHRUG AND GO BACK TO
THEIR SHOPPING.
AS I STAND THERE SPURTING BLOOD FROM MY RAGGED STUMP ALL OVER THE WHITE
FLOOR, I WONDER IF THIS WHOLE SITUATION COULD BE MADE INTO A BRILLIANT
METAPHOR FOR THE HUMAN CONDITION. BUT THEN I REALIZE THAT WOULD BE SILLY
AND POINTLESS, AND I PROCEED TO THE CHECKOUT COUNTER CLUTCHING A NEW PAIR
OF THERMAL UNDERWEAR UNDER MY REMAINING ARM.
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