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Here comes that pretty, Swedish lady again. I see her on the road most mornings. She only tells me hello when she’s passing. And I only say hi to her in response. How I want her to say something else.
Out of bed, up for the day, Greeting my own reali”tay” Who knows what will happen today in the real world of Arabella? Will I say yes to the dress in Nordstrom or from the toddler get her tiara?
  I greet the day begrudgingly. The sunlight pools in my eyes like tears. It streams down my face and no matter how much I rub it does not come off.
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