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I woke up at 10:45. Nothing at first replaced dreams of a friend cutting up dead bodies. carrying frozen red meat across a field where I was watching a baseball game and eating potato chips that were lying in the grass.
I knew I had to leave for work in 15 minutes. It was saturday and I felt downcast, laid my head on my knees and imagined shaking a big striped blanket out to lay on sunny grass.
Putting my hand on my head, I felt smooth grass clinging to it and I decided to take a shower.
It's winter. Frost envelopes and recedes like seasons rapidly progressing. Life takes too long to happen and then weeks go by and I feel I've missed so much. Impossible to catch and examine; like a moth, I can only examine and appreciate its beauty in sleep or in death.