Dear Reader, I don’t know about you, but I've been finding it hard to write. I dream of the sea most days. When I think of freedom, I think of my ankles planted in the water, body turned towards the sun like a sunflower that’s been repotted. My dreams have changed shape - eyes water at the thought of stretching a conversation over lunch at the Apple Blue Patisserie and wolfing down food made by someone else. Loafing around after class with friends, time falling away from us, laughter suspended in the air.
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