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22 May 2009

A prose I found.

"...As the morning sun shone through the windows the next morning, he started clearing up the crumbs on the table. Like trying to pack away a bad dream, he removes the remnants, once sweet, into the thrash. The sun continues to shine. Yet, all he could do was try shake out of the bad dream from last night.

As his heart gently sighed..."


Uncle T

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