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I have been noise-casting via remote frequencies. Strangers arrive after dark to rearrange the furniture. We improvise buffets from the vending machine. Processed food fortifies obscure heroes.

My tracking systems located L.'s myspace page. We have not communicated since her last visit over a year ago. And there was a link to Sarah's page. There were no entries posted on Sarah's page, but there was a picture. I stared and stared. We have not exchanged commnications in well over a year. But I did have a dream about her a few nights ago. She was, in the dream, a pop diva--but she was still Sarah and still very kind and sweet to me.

I thought about writing to her--but maybe that wouldn't be the healthiest thing for me to do. I don't write to anyone anymore. And I don't talk with anyone--unless I'm in disguise.

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