Excerpt from The Play by J. Franco

“What a peculiar thing it is to see when I am able to pause, that the thoughts my voice gives life to simply appeared inside. I did not think upon them until they were there, like a bubble rising up within. They simply were. And just as easily as they appeared, they vanished in a moment only to be replaced by a new thought bubble that I also did not conjure.
I can feel the separation. The voice is not mine. It is a fable once told to me, passed on down the line. Repeated for so long, few would stop to question. But I did.
I sensed something amiss. The aching void refused to abate. There was an awareness within, a longing to be whole again. I knew I was not complete, no matter how many battles I won. I played along in the game, caught up in its noise. But every so often a stillness would take hold, and that was when I knew.”

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