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I Had a Dream

I had a dream that I was running, running fast. Through muddy puddles, crying, wanting nothing but to be home. But the home in my head isn't the one I see now. The home I wanted to go to was one where there had been many bad memories, memories I often forget, but somehow never leave my mind. Tacky floral tile floors stained with exhales from nicotine gums. A tiny fridge placed in the corner of the room with no food, only alcohol, possibly some spoiled milk in the very back. A dark maroon rug, or maybe it was orange, and a brown couch. Most of the tables were milk crates. My room was a small porch where the cigarette...

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