Allen wakes up with photos spread across his desk. Is he still dreaming? A few deep breaths, “Probably no.” So, he stands up, stretches himself and looks in the mirror, which for a second swoons like the surface of a deep lake. “How long have I been out?” he asks himself, and then remembers – time has no importance. He quickly brushes his teeth and slaps cologne on his curly skin. Then, he grabs the photos – shots of a circus crime scene and an item found: a goat’s tongue – and leaves the apartment.
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