This Dream I Dream Instead

I woke now from a bad half-remembered dream but I don’t need to write it at all. The dream I’d like to be in now would be indoors. Maybe it begins with a folded paper in my hand in the shape of a piano— ‘There, you can have it.’ It is still a little warm while the air is refreshingly cool with the scent of new wooden furniture and sweet fruit ripe from the garden let in through wide windows that are closed, mostly. I slip into the story, the piano origami set down onto the table nearby, and then the piano begins to play, the song just starting, these notes are so comforting, so new…

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