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We are only dreams; tall tales told, tossed round cold fires and molten s’moores. We always were and will be forever; recounted recollections retold in æther.

Better than deserved. So, pretty damned good.

Worlds forgotten when waking; memories of solid mist. Vague notions posited by predilections of the heart.

Friends.

Note: 50 words.

 

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