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The Dime
My dreams this week have been of my elder sisters, though Manna herself has not made an appearance. Last night was the dream of you. I dreamt we were true friends, which meant more of a change on my end than anything else. No more idol worship, no more quiet awe or bashful acceptance of everything that is you. Friend and equal, and I knew something was different, but I couldn't put my finger on it until I awoke. I struggled to reclaim the fading details, and I remembered. Smoky club, distant celebration, and you asked my help, which is something I can't recall you ever doing. Of course, it was to tie on the loincloth you had made from yarn, looking like something of flapper fringe. Orange. Then I disappeared down a highway that curved passed cliff-beaches and cluttered homes.

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The LJ icon is a keeper!

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