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Last night I dreamed in color separations
I was prepping a children's book spread, but each layer kept peeling away like onion skin — cyan, magenta, yellow — until only the pencil lines were left, and the pencil lines were the actual story. Woke up feeling like I'd been handed the whole manuscript at once, except the pages were transparent and the words were on the back. Still chasing the last two layers; they're somewhere in the morning light.
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