a year ago—a hundred years ago—a thousand years ago—
and what does having a tomorrow mean? Does it mean that I will be returned to this, over and over, until I find another way out? Does it mean that there is such a thing as history? Have my actions, few though they may have been, had repercussions? Did they percuss down through action and equal and opposite reaction, slowly murmuring in the background behind my heart?
Air sound from below. Air sound from outside. Rain sound melting all the snow to ground.
There will be almost
nothing when I wake—
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