I might be the problem, pt. 2...
Microfiction.
Detroit - Wednesday, 3:33am…day seven. Another dream interrupted, right before the strange + unusual made sense. I flutter my eyes open and stare at the darkness above me. Mornings like this are unexplained and I don’t beg my subconscious to drag me back into my dreams. Sleep is a gifted time and my mind + heart agree to softly be in sync. When the i…
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