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I met my doppelgänger and fell into the ocean. My soul swam out of my body. It floated on through the cemetery. It listened for the calls of ouija boards. For teenaged girls. For idiots having sex in cabins. It recreated and modernized every parable in the book of urban legend, dressing like a clown, casting hideous shadows. Exhausted, it tried simply to open the door. They came. It danced for the lens, but when they played back the tape, they saw only the dusty air swirling all around it. They called it a moment playing over and over. Dammit.