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Perfect Metamorphosis
I am escaping from something or somewhere and trying to get home. It's dark, and I'm on a small town city street, staying close to the buildings, moving across balconies, staying away from the street itself. I have this feeling that whomever is tracking me isn't far behind, and I'm running out of time.

I run across a front yard to a ditch and throw myself into it, as I see men with flashlights moving around. They pass on, but they will find out soon enough they've neglected to search carefully enough. I think, "I have to give it a try, there's nothing else to do."

I reach over and rummage through a torn trash bag and come up with a white plastic knife. Yes! This should do. I hold it close to my face, immersing myself in the energy field of the last person to hold the knife. I feel something wash over me, and I know the process is complete. I emerge from the ditch, knowing I'm a tall dark haired man, muscular and strong.

I stride with confidence to the sidewalk, in the open and continue walking. I pass a group of young men hanging around a car, and they see me and shrink into the shadows. I laugh, this is perfect.

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