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Desperate Cry for Help 036
I am addicted to extra-strong mints.
Once, I sought out "mildly ok mints" or "just average strength mints," but you can't find those anywhere.
So I started straight on the extra-strong, as I was terrified of the hard stuff, those curiously strong mints.
And soon my breath was as minty as an alcoholic fisherman. My ex nicknamed me "Mint-head" and I walked through the street, confused, my nasal passages experiencing a slight burning sensation.
It was like I was in a different world. A world ruled by chaos, and fear, and I was just walking through, like a zombie, with incredibly refreshing breath.
And soon my tongue burned with pain, and yet I just kept sucking and chewing, like a maniac.
It was wrong. Even though I smelled so clean, I felt so dirty.
Finally, my breath was so damned minty fresh and overpowering that when I coughed, a gust of my breath hit someone's cigarette lighter, and with a sudden POOF of flame, they completely singed their eyebrows.
I was severely beaten and kicked repeatedly in anger.
And as I lay, brutally broken in that dark and lonely alleyway, I remembered that first innocent day, after I had the garlic and onion pizza and thought "I really should get a tic-tac before going back to work."
How far I had fallen in those lost days since.
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