mimic

When it comes down to it, she’s more of a mirror than a person, at this point. Every few weeks she starts watching a new show, or reading a new book, and some obscure detail will catch her attention. A tick of one of the characters—rolling a weak ankle, sticking their tongue out the corner of their mouth—something obscure, created to just give a hint of a semblance of humanity. Then, a day later, she’ll find herself doing it, mimicking something that was never real in the first place, something that will soon be so engrained in her that she won’t be able to stop it if she tries, that she won’t be able to remember where it came from in the first place, that she won’t be able to recall who she used to be without it.


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