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Memories of an Amnesiac

A story based on a dream that made me cry, this had to be written before I forgot it.

My name is El-My name is E-I don’t know my name. Who am I? More importantly, where am I?Oh.I didn’t quite know what I was doing at the ceremonial event. It was not ‘my kind of scene’. But there I was at the opening credits of the play, formal wear on, in...