forget your head
#5
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indent Ahren’s sleep varied with great discrepancy—some nights he remained up until dawn, others he was asleep as soon as it was dark. His pattern was a curious one, and that was why he never thought of it. He slept when he was tired. Mostly, though, he had found himself becoming more and more nocturnal. The dreams didn’t come with such authority during the day. “Bad dreams,” he offered, explaining no more. Another drag on the cigarette, another breath of smoke to the wind.






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