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I stopped at the foot of the stairs, listening to an impossible conversation [s]upstairs[/s].
I slowly walked up the stairs,
As the man spoke, I noticed the veins lined through his forehead. He kept asking me questions in his broken English, but I couldn't concentrate on translating what he was trying to say to me. After noticing the vein in his head, my eyes scanned downward, noticing all of the tiny wrinkles in the man’s tired face. Looking closer, I saw that I could easily count the pores on his cheeks, even though I was standing more than six feet away from him. I was strangely entranced by the man’s face. My eyes moved down the man’s face to his neck. If I thought I couldn't tear my eyes away from this small Chinese man before, I had no hope of it now. My breath stopped as I noticed the thick jugular vein that was throbbing with the man’s blood. His blood. I wanted it. I craved it. I had to get out of here.
Slowly the man started to back away from me, all the while not tearing his eyes away from mine.
Once outside, I was glad to have the fresh air and some room to think through the incredible things I had seen and felt since...last...night.
I couldn't be completely free though. Not after what I had experienced in the past half hour, I would never be able to forgive myself for the thoughts I had had about those poor old Chinese men in that restaurant. Why did I have those thoughts anyway? I wasn't a cannibal; I didn't even eat my steak that rare. Ew, steak...what....the...hell...
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