See the man's face in the mirror, the man is not there. It's the mundane, preying on him. The walls are stained, the roof is too low for him to stand. His head is filled with stories. And yet, the mundane preys on the man..
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See the man's face in the mirror, the man is not there. It's the mundane, preying on him. The walls are stained, the roof is too low for him to stand. His head is filled with stories. And yet, the mundane preys on the man..
