Last night I dreamed that you were making mittens out of the ashes of dead animals.
At first the killing was for art, then you started displaying the tiny corpses. I thought this was a bit strange.
You built the most beautiful ash sculpture in the world. You kept it hidden, so that it wouldn't blow over. I looked again and you had broken it apart. By breaking it you wee ensuring that you wouldn't have to carry it around anymore.
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