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Vision 1
There I am, Standing in a room full of clocks that have no hands. Writings on the wall, The words I cannot comprehend.
I look into a mirror and its me I see looking back, except I'm dressed for the grave. What do you make of that?
A fear washes over. A chill drops down my spin, when I finally realized this was not a dream; I've been awake the whole time.
