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“You. Are. Out. Of. Your. Mind.” Cole poured another drink.
“Wrong again. It's you who are out of my mind. Or the author's mind. Depends on how you look at it, really. Authors take a lot of credit that belongs to their muse.”
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I got this job where I sell snow cones from a cart in a petting zoo. Parents ask if their children can take pictures with me. I neigh and nod my big horse head. After my shifts, I go into the bar, still in my getup, as this horse, and the bartender says,
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