Aaron Darveau, May 1975
Aaron is having the nightmare again. It is as familiar to him as his own face in the mirror. He knows how it progresses and has no choice but to experience it as if it were new each time it occurs. He’s never been able to wake himself up from it.
The dream always starts out the same way. He’s in his back yard raking the leaves. It’s hard keeping them in one area because the wind is blowing. He looks up at the gathering storm clouds and hopes he can get it done before his dad gets home. He has a date tonight, but he can’t leave until he finishes his chores.
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