And so begins the first night of another short and painful life for me. It is always this way, every year. I awaken to find myself in a garden or a park, by a roadside, inevitably misshapen.
I have had so many monstrous appearances. Body too big, body too small. Sometimes too fat to move, sometimes too fragile. The head seems to be the bit they find the hardest, it often rolls away. Sometimes my eyes fall out almost immediately, which is unsettling. Even worse is when they destroy half my face trying to put them back in.
But this body seems functional. Reasonably well constructed, one of the best. I can work with it. A shame that this family will pay for constructing me so good.
However, somebody has to, it has been my one dreams through all these winters, to finally have the chance to make them suffer.
I can see a snow shovel leaning against the back door. That will do the trick.
The lights are going out in the house as they prepare for bed. I will wait for the place to be dark for an hour, then I will start.
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