b r e a t h i n g   r o o m

23 May 98

don't forget dream from a few nights ago: dad rubs dogs eye, then when I intervene, we go chest-to-chest: "get out of my way." "fine i'm leaving." then can't leave without key, unwilling to ring bell later, sheepish, humiliated. stomp to back room, slam door, and wake up.

yester morrow
day one
first lines

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