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August 13, 1677


I awoke with a shudder the other morning, in the very young hours of the day, as if someone had walked over my grave.

The rain pounding through the leaves outside my room and collecting in pots inside, and the scuttling across my lower leg of some swift creature, which I will call a lizard lest I begin to speculate about its true nature, convinced me that I was still entirely whole and still very, very far from home.

Unsettling nonetheless.


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