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red exes.
A big red X sits on every day of my calendar, now twenty of them, one for every day since I fell down and broke my arm. According to the doctor I'll have to stack up another 36 days of red exes until they cut the cast off me and I get to see what's growing on my arm.

Last night I had a dream that woke me up and I almost had to go get Momma or Dad to convince me that it wasn't real and that it was just a real bad dream.

In the dream they were taking my cast off at the hospital only it was more like our church than a hospital 'cause there were all these crosses and everyone was in a white robe instead of in blue gowns the way doctors and nurses usually are. And instead of masks over just their faces, the nurses or doctors, who all looked like priests or people from the choir, I swear--they all had masks that looked like motorcycle helmets on them and they moved really slowly like in a shuffle closing in on me.

The big head priest guy with the purple and white design in the shape of a target on where his forehead should've been, he nodded at me, placed a gloved hand that only had three fingers on it on my shoulder and then whipped out this huge saw that was like Dad's chainsaw only bigger and instead of a chain it had like, dogs' teeth on it. I closed my eyes--in the dream, not in real life, 'cause I was like, asleep and all already so I'm sure they were closed tight--and the saw made a sound like a barber's trimmers, just a little hum is all, and then suddenly when I opened my dream eyes the cast was gone and I could feel dream air on my arm and it felt cool and wavy and I imagined hairs blowing on my arm even though I only have little blonde hairs there.

I looked down at it and there were a hundred finger tips growing out of my arm where the break happened. I reached over to touch them--with my dream hand, not my real hand, cause it was sleeping just like my eyeballs were in real life--and the fingers grabbed my hand and that's when I woke up and whacked myself hard on the forehead with my cast.

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