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June 11, 2009
It always happens that on the mornings I'm able to sleep in I receive a strange or unexpected text. Someone told me they were dragging through the workday.
"Who's this?" I asked.
Come to find out it was Nera, the girl who sat across from me in art class and began shunning me for not being able to help her family move. I wondered why she was including me in her mass text messaging operations after ten years, but didn't wonder for long. I guess there really are limits concerning just how far and where into my past I'll go.