A never-ending parade of masks stares me in the face. An assembly line of voided eyes. Open mouths. Rictus expressions. They slide into place, jerk to a stop, stay for a moment, and move on again as a new one slides in to replace the old. As a Hindu god of infinite visages. A laughing expression. A scowling one. One that cries infinite tears. One painted in rage. Another flecked with anxiety.
I stare back at them, hour after hour. My own countenance lined with rime. Frozen into forced stoicism. Conscious neutrality.
It's a series of tests. I keep my expression stony and frosted, so as not to offend. I keep my lips pressed together and sealed, as not to mislead.
10:35 a.m. - 2014-05-28
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