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Unrecognizable

Sophia

The bubbles from the champagne tickled my nose as I downed my second flute. The flutes were plastic, so not regulation sized. The news never slept, so we were having the New Year’s party at the Dallas Post for employees and their significant others. The location was ideal, but the budget wasn’t quite there. Springing for cheap champagne and noisemakers was the extent of the party.

Still, it wasn’t as if I had anything better to do. I was always looking for a story that would give me the promotion I deserved, but so far, I had failed to find something truly electrifying in my six years as a journalist.

One great story could make my career, so I picked up any scraps of news that I could and wrote every article as if it were my last story.

My boss, Mr. Fraser, always said, “You’re only as good as your last piece.” I lived by that motto to the fullest. My last piece was something I wanted to get past: a piece on the insect infestation at the local animal shelter. I had imaginary fl
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