by Ami Heller

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Gilbert O’Sullivan – Alone Again (Naturally)

I dreamt of a gathering on the roof. People were referring to me as Edward. I didn’t mind it. It felt sophisticated. We all conversed in a British accent. It was all rather fancy. One by one everyone vanished. The wind took me away. On the edge. I tried to fight the gust. But I fell. Forty-Two seconds.
Then I woke up.
Washed my face.
Stared at the mirror.
And uttered towards the person in front of me the name. Edward.