Archives: Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Presque Vu, Jamais Vu

The dreams. Always, the dreams. Dreams never remembered save for impressions of hurry, of movement, a sense of familiar place, all gone in the instant of waking. Dreaming became waking life. Beginning in the night as soon as she closed her eyes, seeping like ink spilled on a blotter into the morning, into the day. Things worth remembering– a

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