One winter in San Diego, it turned cold only like a seaboard coast can. It was as freezing as a day in Chicago and I was walking through the mall intending to go to the movies. The mannequins eyes started following me as I window shopped. It was a queer feeling that I couldn't shake. I went to my hotel room instead of the movies and tried to quell my fear. Nothing would subside and the look of the other hotel guests began to be quizzically the same. I was being followed but by what?
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