I’m accustomed to having daydreams and Nightmares when I’m sick. Daydreams, well, because I stop working to rest my body then I fall asleep. The nightmares, on the other hand, are not really nightmares, nope, not all the time. Sometimes I’m being tortured, sometimes I’m re-living a good day in time, other times, actual Nightmares.
This one time in 2015, I came back home to James and Gracie (my parents) at our former house in Mowe, the neighbours’ children were playing at the back of the unfenced compound. I sneaked in from the front in order to surprise everyone. When I emerged from the long corridor, no one saw me. I called out to my parents and the children, no one saw me, heard me or even looked in my direction.



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