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Tuesday, 18 July 2017

6:45 ...

I woke feeling like 6:45 pm.
Strange and disoriented from a sleep that wasn't quite peaceful, not because I had bad dreams or anything, but from all the fuzz in my head. I woke up to half a cigarette hanging from her lower lip, a power cut that had gotten everybody pretty jittery and a sky that was a strange shade of blue. I sat there and for the first time in a long time, felt nothing. Nothing at all. And I suddenly remembered how familiar feeling nothing felt, how light and how hollow; the kind that slowly drowns you into your own self. That was what 6:45 felt like: a stretched figment of time that seemed to have lost itself somewhere. But she sat beside me and we smiled and before we knew it, the clock had lived its moment and all was real again.

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