At around 4pm, the Stanford campus is always filled with runners, cyclists, and athletes in cardinal red. I appreciate this, and yet, at the same time, I feel like I'm running among highly-intelligent pod-people who have sinister intentions beneath benign good looks and have assumed the forms of innocuous, white-bread athletic types in order to Blend In. I imagine that they detach their lower jaws and consume god knows what when my back is turned, and perhaps someday I will stumble upon a flying saucer delivering giant eggs. As always, this run was suspiciously uneventful.
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