JCCG - Fresh Do
A return after long wanderings. In half-consciousness he wandered, in half-emptiness, with a half-empty container, in semi-darkness, in squinty-eyed absurdity, with scraped glasses, and a scratching hand to scratch his head, he knew not what was real, or what was not, but there he was, under the eyes he wished to rest, under her gaze, under her shade, her resting tree.
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