I was in the store the other day, and this woman started gushing. I can't believe it's you. And when I turned to face her, she realized it wasn't.
No, I am sorry, I wanted to say. I wasn't you. But I was almost you.
You look so much like Sarah, the woman said.
Yes, I agreed. I do.
It's true. I don't know who Sarah is, but I am her mirror image. I have been mistaken for her many times. I have even insulted people who know her by snubbing them as I walk right past them, blank-faced. Sarah, I've learned, is kind of a bitch. She doesn't talk to just anyone.
On Creativity: How to Kill Ideas
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