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October 21, 2015
In a dream, a blue, old bus is passing in front of my house. I look out my window and there it is, moseying as if it had all the time in the world. One by one, a child's head appears behind each bus window. They're all looking at me. It's 10 identical boys. Black hair, round eyes, red lips. I know this is a dream so I know not to be afraid, but then they start singing this haunting song. Why is this bus moving so slow? It feels like years now. The boys open their mouths in unison.