epitome of incomprehensibility
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I'm working at a dream_camp long before summer starts, helping to ready it for the regular season. Sometimes, there's still snow. I'm still in my winter pyjamas, somehow without a coat. A problem: I'm sporadically dripping period blood. I have some sort of pad, but it's bunched up to the side. I can feel a wet spot on my pyjama pants; their dark fuzziness makes it hard to see, so none of the few staff members notice, but as I walk on a snowy path alone, a watery red drop falls. Will people see it and worry that someone's been wounded? But here's a shed with bathrooms. To my annoyance, all the toilets are clogged, toilet paper stuffed in them and trailing to the floor. In other stalls, the doors won't open. A stale urine smell. I figure that no one's been in here to clean it since it's not the main bathroom and the regular camp season hasn't started. Despite the gross atmosphere, I go into a stall (this one has a door that won't fully close) and make a hurried pad with toilet paper. Now people are coming in. I avoid them because I'm embarrassed. Go down a path that is no longer snow-covered. The next time I see people, they're police officers. A man takes my arm, tells me, "You're wanted for murder." I don't know if I say anything. Maybe just "Why?" His partner explains: an elderly woman was killed and her body left in a stall in those messy bathrooms. Someone jammed the door so it wouldn't open easily. A drop of blood was found nearby and it wasn't HER blood, see, because it was merely the menstrual sort and she was too old to menstruate. The trail was traced back to me. I'm the culprit. I look down and, to my embarrassment, another drop of blood falls. Dammit, I thought I'd dammed that up! "I'm sorry about that. But I didn't kill anybody." They don't believe me, but they aren't holding onto me any longer. I run to the boathouse roof. Alas, someone's put a boat *on* the roof. Maybe it was the murderer. Inadvertently, I step in this boat and it starts slipping down the roof's slope. I look down at the icy water. I'll die if I can't stop the fall! There's a handle I can grab onto at the edge of the roof, but a chain is tangled in it. Can I grasp it anyway? Is there room? Even as I ready myself to grab it, I think, "I regret not taking the time to understand my mother better." And then, "No! FOCUS! How are you THIS easily distracted??!! Worry about that later!!" The boat slips in the water and I'm safe. But not because I grabbed the handle. I just happened to land on the ground.
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250519
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