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Dream: Stowaways in the sky force us to have an annoyingly extensive family reunion in a department store on a boat. Part 1.

Although I stood on the broad, cobalt steps of a Library, unwavering bastion of knowledge, the world listed and I listed with it. The tired pits under my eyes were deep and scraping the hollows of my neck. O, give me sleep! Give me sustenance! Give me equilibrium! Give me self-forgiveness!

Aside from the colored steps of the Library, the rest of my surroundings were bleached white. A round, black car came around the corner. The driver was an old friend of my brother's, a very intelligent stoner. Without stopping his vehicle, he stuck his hay-colored head out the window and shouted, "There is no cavern more wide, as filled with horrifying time than sobriety."

Before he turned the other corner, he said, "I will have been around this block a million times."

The world shifted, throwing me like a wooden doll to the right, past the corner of the Library where I smashed against the great, white wall that surrounded the road. I rose on vertiginous legs in a vapid corner. Far along the road, beyond buildings with scraped-away faces, opened automated doors. Laughter emerged from the doors, laughter sharing the notes of my own hidden joy, laughter of my family. At the crest of that hilarity walked a nun. Her black skirt moved briskly with her pace. She approached me, her eyes blazing with alarm. I moved like a struggling drunk, dancing to a tune nobody else could hear. I held up my hand to stop her advance. Without opening my mouth, I said, I don't plan to die. I only want to sleep.

She stopped. I collapsed in the corner.

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