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The Journey Home Now I am eating eggs, over-hard, and drinking Moxie. When I sleep, I may dream of riding a three-legged mule through Chucky Cheese's ball pit, and this dream may remind me of our 13 block 45 minute cab ride to Penn Station at rush hour. Or I may dream of dragging an elephant by it's trunk up the side of a mountain in the middle of a rockslide, and be reminded of walking through Penn Station at 5:30 PM dragging our luggage through a crowd of people roughly equivalent to the population of my home state. I may be glad to be home, to have the night time actually be dark, or I may miss the freedom of being out of town, away from the routine and responsibility of life.

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