LynnBN: Stories

I close my eyes one more time, and I finally give in to exhaustion. As I am drawn further and further into the dark, an indiscernible figure subtly creeps into my mind. At first, the stern eyes that scrutinize me seem to belong to my father. But then, as the number of faces begins to multiply, I realize it's not a dream about my old man. Far from it. All I see is them. The wimps and the minxes. Wimps and minxes everywhere. And in that gruesome dream of mine, I stand amongst them.
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