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Chicken Little: Schitzophrenic Homeless Man By Lev Shtrikman I only have three hours until the moon falls from the sky. Okay, I need a plan. I have just three hours, before the sky falls somewhere. No, I have less than three of it now. Two quarters drop in the hat in front of me. Thank you sir. “Thank you sir,” I say out loud in case he can’t read my thoughts. God bless you. God. God! I believe in the God. He’ll stop the sky from hurting me again. He needs to hurry. So much, I need to work. I need to win and save the world. I’m just so. I don’t understand the sun right now. Why is it doing that? Why? Did we land on it. Was that real? My mom said it was. I just. I just can’t finish the thought. No, okay. Three hours. That’s what’s important. I just need to go to the store and buy a watch. Then I’ll know the three hours. I’ll help everyone. I need more money though. How much do watches cost? They sound like money. I’m smiling at a different man passing by. Service with a smile. It doesn’t work. He doesn’t drop anything. I check the hat. I count twelve thousand coins, all pennies. So maybe he did drop some. I don’t know. I don’t have anyone to ask. Tom has a sign. I’ll pay him to make me one. It’ll smile for me. But then, I’d have to be in Tom’s corner and not my corner. The corners are there for a reason; to separate us from each other. I can’t talk to him long distance. That’s what makes us bums like us bums. They can read our thoughts. We can’t. We can’t read our thoughts. Our thoughts are our thoughts. I’ve been awake too long. I only have three hours. The sun is already way too high. It’ll just get higher and higher till it drops. I’ll just get to do it, before it does. I. I have so little tools. I just need more things to make the time stop. What? Okay, I just need to. No, no. I don’t need anything, except a clock that I can turn off forever and save everyone. Then, they’d smile and I wouldn’t have to.
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