and all my dudes and awesomes and yeahs tumbled out; as if the Pacific suckled on my toes and eucalyptus perfumed my earlobesand I wore my prettiest dress; as if winter had never chapped my skin raw nor forced itself into my veins; as if my friends waited in a bar around the corner
and I was dreaming by the canal, under leafy sycamores and blooming horse-chestnuts; as if the water was dredged and clean; as if teenage carp fed at the bottom, instead of long-tailed striped plastic bags; as if the umbrellas were once again intact and the bicycle wheels were turning on the pavement
and I was laughing; as if Misfortune was my best friend; as if she taught me all the ways I was fortunate; as if Fortune and Misfortune were the same, of whom you mustn't expect much from, only a vision, perhaps, of your own strength and failures
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