Habits Die Hard

What others have may not be what we need. MIchelle Liew

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Harold had a unique talent—he mimicked traits to perfection. An eyelift, a glance, twitch of the eyebrow–once he did so, the habit was his to keep.

At first, they were just harmless party tricks. He got his thrills from a musician’s singing ability, an artist’s hand, a mathematician’s logic. He didn’t take anything of apparent value, just qualities that made people what they were.

Then, he thought—what if he reshaped himself? The possibilities were endless. He got greedy. His next victim was a locksmith who could fashion any key.

No one cared at first—he took only invisible things. One night, he imitated a woman’s stutter.

With it came the teasing behind his back. The hidden laughter. The slow diminishing of confidence.

Some traits exist to rein in something else.

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