Awake. Dream. Awake.
I shake fragments of dreams as screams fill my head. The words said in dream haunt my waking hours.
The space between awake and dreaming is a fog of disoriented images. I struggle to see the difference.
The images of nigh fade more and more as I wake more and more.
I yawn as my mind prepares for the day. Moving away from the things of dreams of night towards the dreams of day.
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