The moonlight reflects on the motionless puddle of water in front of me. The lights leaves an undefined shadow figure on the brick wall next to me. The figure is shapeless, just a lump. A pointy, rocky lump. Like a **** of clay, waiting to be molded into a proper shape or figure, I too wait for someone to take me for the shapeless **** of clay I am and mold me into the thing I want to be: human.