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I put my arm around the girl’s shoulder, guide her toward the funhouse door.
“Daddy, I’m not sure-“
“It’s fine, pumpkin.” The endearment is ash in my mouth. “Nothing bad can happen to you in there,” I lie.
“Mommy hasn’t come out yet- “
I bite the words off. “It’s fine.”
“Daddy, you’re acting funny, like that Star Trek episode where they came from a para… para…”
“One, please,” I shout to the figure at the funhouse door and push the girl toward him.
She goes to her doom, and I rub my newly-bare chin, thankful this dimension invented razors.