![](http://photos1.blogger.com/img/276/4538/320/post%20office%20side.jpg)
closeup of one side of my post office, you can see the stamps a little better, and the quiltblock design of my paint job.
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Some mornings I wake up from this dream about a friend I haven't seen in 20-odd years, and my chest feels hollowed out with longing for him, for that connection. It feels deliciously right and disappointingly sad at the same time. It's a mystery.
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