I’m sure that you heard enough tall tales starting with “I’m not sure about this, and I haven’t seen it myself, but a friend of a friend told me” or “You know, there’s this person somewhere in the town I’m living in and it might sound peculiar, but –“ in your life. I did and enough of that nonsense, I can tell you. But in this case it’s not from someone who only told me, I’ve seen it myself and now I’m telling you, I am. And I’m sure that no one told you about this one yet because it literally just happened, hasn’t even been in the newspapers yet and you know how fast those vultures usually are. So, you see, there was this woman, a friend of mine first told me about her and naturally I didn’t believe him but then after a few weeks I met her myself – several times even. Now, that’s not a strange thing taken by itself, you get this a lot: One of your mates or yourself sees a hot girl somewhere in town and you talk about her, nothing weird about that. But this one, Jesus, still gives me the bloody shivers. That one didn’t have just one face, she changed them regularly, man. And I don’t mean that she used lots of make-up or had plastic surgery or shit, she literally changed faces like shoes or shirts or whatever. Now you may ask how you could even recognise her as soon as she wore another one – and no, the answer is not as simple as “She wore the same clothes”, “Her body or her voice didn’t change” – and this is where shit gets spooky. You could recognise her by looking at her face. Nah, I’m not pulling your leg, seriously. She was literally wearing the other faces on top of her usual one. That didn’t change. Just simply on top, honestly, like some pretty fucked-up sort of mask. It was just that cut-up piece of flesh sticking crudely to her original face. There were lots of faces. Some were all oozy and wet, with blood running down the contours of her face|s, lazily dripping down her chin and, jeez, you could see how badly it was attached to her skull, with the borrowed layer of skin going all bumpy in all the wrong sorts of places, with folds and creases where they weren’t supposed to be on a usual face. Some, on the other hand, were all dry and cracked, gone all papery and flaky, audibly rustling when she touched it while brushing the hair out of her eyes. I’m pretty sure that she had to peel those from her real face – if there even was one, I‘m not so sure about that anymore, maybe there’s even a face beneath that face and so on all the way down where there’s nothing at all – with her fingernails. And the most disturbing thing was that most people didn’t even notice. Once, when I met her riding the bus, the smell of rotten meat alone was so bloody overwhelming my stomach turned, but apart from another woman in the back of the bus nobody saw it. There was even a guy ogling at her, trying to chat her up and, man, he was totally into her but he didn’t notice shit. And I haven’t even started wondering where she gets the faces from. That thought will sure take me places I don’t want to go, so I’ll leave it at that.