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Into the Shadows

The cold Bethlehem night hummed with frustrated murmurs. Inns overflowed, their doors shut against the weary. Mary, heavy with child, leaned against Joseph, her breath coming in ragged gasps as another innkeeper shook his head apologetically. "No room, good people. Not a single corner". Across the crowded square, another figure knew that same crushing disappointment. He was a man of striking contrast: black hair was placed above a face etched with travel, and eyes the startling colour of indigo seemed to absorb the dim lantern light, reflecting a deep weariness. He was not old, but his shoulders slumped with the weight of countless rejections. "Nothing, sir", a voice boomed from a doorway he'd just approached. "Try the next street, maybe, but I doubt it". He'd heard it a dozen times tonight. His dark features, perhaps his silent intensity, seemed to put people off even more readily than the general lack of space. He wasn't belligerent, mere...
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Two Polarising Figures

I've grown increasingly weary of being caught in the crossfire of debates between supporters of two polarising figures. On one side, there's a man who strikes me as flamboyantly effeminate, yet he harbours a vicious streak that belies his outward appearance. On the other side, there's an individual who resembles an ogre - not just in his brutish demeanor, but also in his tendency to gain excessive weight. The constant back-and-forth between their followers has become utterly exhausting.




At times, I find myself wondering if these people truly understand the depths of my frustration. Do they comprehend the extent to which I'm willing to go to put an end to this incessant bickering? I've even contemplated demonstrating my physical prowess, perhaps by showing them just how easily I could break their necks if pushed too far. Yet, it seems they deliberately steer clear of provoking me to that point, perhaps sensing the danger that lurks beneath my calm exterior.

As for the feminine man's attempts at viciousness, I must admit that I hold them in very low regard. His snide remarks and underhanded tactics may work on others, but they fail to faze me in the slightest. I see through his facade and recognise his cruelty for what it truly is - a desperate attempt to compensate for his own insecurities.

On the other hand, the ogre-like individual's belief in his own toughness is equally laughable. He may think that his sheer size and brutish appearance make him an unstoppable force, but I know better. Beneath that layer of fat and bravado lies a man who is just as vulnerable as anyone else. His attempts to intimidate me with his supposed hardness only serve to highlight his own fragility.

In the end, I've had quite enough of being dragged into the petty squabbles between these two camps. I long for the day when I can escape the constant barrage of insults and arguments, and live my life free from the burden of their rivalry. Until then, I'll continue to bide my time, waiting for the opportunity to break free from the shackles of this endless debate.

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