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Friday, November 4, 2011

It was eight am.  She'd been up for half an hour but hadn't moved from bed.  She didn't feel good today.  And she was trying to remember.  She needed to remember.  More so than usual.  That dream had been important.  For she hadn't spoken.  She had listened only.  This much she could recall.  And what he spoke, was meant to be carried over.  

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