vooday astral arc

She was shot in the stomach, the only way to get the baby out. He wasn't in the clinical prison when she awoke but she knew he would come back. The clear observation  glass walls watched her on the red bed as she checked herself for stitches and wounds.

There were well crafted dolls, played by the mad man on top of buildings. He was filming the dolls with an unfocused camera. One doll looked down from the roof, hundreds of stories and powerful vertigo. The souls far below all had a yellow aura surround them, walking around obliviously.
I told my mother in the dream that, "we take 70 seconds to fall to our deaths." In my head I was really counting as either the doll, a person or me, fell. It seemed too long or I was counting too slowly and yet we did not reach the ground. 

phantom memories with no faces weaved in and out of dream, and I recall who but not why. 
there was no reason to be sexually excited, there was too much blood everywhere but I orgasmed anyway because the man was coming to harm her. 

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