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fog

Posted on July 7, 2009 by wildreader

The buzz of the alarm clock got me out of bed and across the room to press snooze. I collapsed to my knees, face on the carpet, prostrating myself before the god of the morning. Gone were the days I woke with joy, shaking my limbs, unable to let sleep claim one more second of my day. I’ve been to the top of Teotihuacan, swam along antipodean reefs, and sat on a couch on Isla de la Juventud. It just wasn’t there. I was asleep inside. Fog clung to the periphery of all my experiences.

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