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A dream

I am wanted and hounded. To be sighted by another human is to be pursued. I am walking down a sunny and deserted road, when without warning, I see a bus in the distance.

I start running as fast as I can, knowing that as I can see the bus, the inhabitants therein, and there must be many, can see me also. I run sluggishly; when I need my strength I have none. I struggle against fences and barriers.

I look back to see the bus has stopped. A man is running from the bus toward me at formidable speed. I turn to run, but I feel I shouldn't bother. I will be caught.

He takes me to a house alone, and I know that he intends to kill me, but I am still thinking about my escape, and I don't feel quite afraid.

He talks to me about killing me, and the others he has killed before me. He tells me that he has made their bodies into ornaments for his home. I have an idea that I should see what he has made; that it will give me a clue for my escape, or it will fill me with horror so that I can run away, because right now my spirit is null.

I follow him into a darkly-appointed bathroom with outdated color and lighting. He hands me the skin-covered canisters where he puts his cotton balls and Q tips. They are made from human organs, cured and stiffened into round lidded boxes. I find them ugly and unremarkable, and I feel a dull horror that my body may become nothing more than one of these soon. And I wake up.

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