I put on the clothes, the makeup. One last look in the mirror and a forced smile. I push harder. It almost becomes sincere. I’ll keep trying.
I can’t think about her when I work. I need to reach down to them, the transient crowd, the people who stare with wonder. I need to reach down and lift them up. I can’t think of her. I cant lift them when it’s all I can do to hold up the heaviness of my own heart. I’ve been thinking about her too much these days.

I close my eyes, escape into character, hide behind the makeup – and walk out the door.

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