Hands pull at thin strings that are close to translucent amongst a setting lacking light. In knots tied around the ends of fingertips, the strings become taught as they are pulled upward and toyed with idly. Lips part amongst a smile and even though they do not move to speak, (
a voice sounds in nothing but a quiet whisper. )
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maybe you know
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But it's not normal for someone to show up in my dreams that I don't know.
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Ah-! [Don't mind if he trips over your abdomen, Timothy. Face down, he pushes himself up on his palms and looks over his shoulder.] ... What the hell?
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Alex? Wh-what?
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... Oh, hello Timothy.
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