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They come from dreams: the stuff of nightmares. I can’t comprehend until after it happens. Drawn objects from the past (carriers of other memories, combined) attempt to divine some meaning. Unfamiliar images foreshadow in the flash of single frames.

I fix them into permanence: etched into metal, drawn onto stone, in hopes of finding my way back. Communication seems severed, but perhaps something can still transmit through the static.

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