I was the funeral-- no, at the gallery opening-- no, at a party. What party? I couldn't see anyone's faces. Were these my friends? My family? I didn't remember this place, this night. So why? Why now? Why was I remembering this? Or really, not remembering this? In reality I was lying in bed, dreaming, perhaps sweating and kicking off the covers, but safe. Only felt lost, adrift, vulnerable, because of Guei. Guei had put this memory in my head. Why?
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