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Walking through the front door, I froze. There, in the dim light of our living room, stood a woman—disheveled and swaying slightly, but it was her face that stole my breath away. Attached to the shoulder of this random, drunken stranger was my wife Carmen’s head, eyes wide and pleading, sharing a bewildered expression with the woman.
“Surprise!” the stranger slurred, her voice a jarring mix of deep gravel and Carmen's familiar lilt. The two heads shared an uncanny harmony, as if they were an odd duet in a surrealist play. I staggered back, my mind racing.
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