She spied the clock on the wall, slightly
tilted, and moves to it slowly.
The webs of confusion bind her thoughts.
Wordlessly, she straightens time, and her
life falls into place.
She hears them now, their laughter floating on the breeze.
She feels their presence, but does not see.
A friendly hand touches her shoulder, and she awakens.
And screams. Then calms.
Because they are not real.
Are they?

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