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Monday, July 15, 2013


the breeze. the eternal breeze. she closes her eyes, and knows its a dream because of the breeze.

there is no wind here.

she is in a garden. suddenly it is still.

she hears a koel.

there is a tree. an old one. all kinds of plants overgrown. a vine, dripping down over everything. ivy on the brick walls. somewhere behind her back, the old house is there. the one with the doors within doors within doors. the one with the bay windows she's spent her youth sitting on. its been empty a long long time through, ghosts of servants past waiting for the mistress to return home. is she the new owner?

there is a blast.

she must hurry.

they're coming.

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