The Enigma

A man wearing a homemade scarlet and gold superhero costume dashes through Piccadilly Circus while a scattered gathering of tourists looks on, nonplussed: “My therapist asked me what I wanted people think of me and I told her I wanted people to think of me as an enigma. And that’s when I got the idea to call myself The Enigma. The only problem is that everyone seems to know who I am. Everyone knows it’s me under the costume. They say, Hey, Terry, how’s it going? But that hasn’t stopped me. I’m not going to stop being The Enigma just because everyone knows who I am. I figure if I do this long enough maybe all the people who know it’s me will disappear or move or die and then there’ll be this fresh crop of people who have no idea and then I can truly be The Enigma. Because that’s who I am. I’m, you know, I’m not what people think I am, I’m, uh, I’m, like, there’s this one person, and uh, you know, I’m, I’m, uh, well, I’m, I guess, oh, fuck it, I don’t know, I guess I’m just Terry.”


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