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<h1>2020-09-01-Dreams</h1>
<h1>Dreams
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<h2>R.
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<p>Last night I dreamed that you'd shaved your head.  You were excited and called me about it.  I got a picture (in my mind's eye?) of what you looked like.  It was nice.  I woke up this morning still thinking it was true.  I realized before I saw you that it couldn't be -- you would never shave your head.  Why did I dream it?
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<h2>Masks
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<p>A family of loud patrons refused to wear masks.  I was in the old library from graduate school -- remember the foyer?  They were at the table we had set up and were demanding to be let in, but I stood firm.  The man was tall and big and scary, and his family stood behind him, like a phalanx.  I thought they would charge at us but finally they turned and stalked away: lions from rotten meat.  I turned around relieved and my coworker was there, without a mask, smiling and chatting.  I was distraught.  The words formed behind my lips to take him down, and I woke up.
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<h2>Others
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<p>Those are all I can remember.  I know there are others.  They wait in the shadows.

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