[The rustle of tattered fabric is heard amongst static and the blip of the communicator turning on.]
Nuuu...
[For a time there is no coherent speech-- only soft mumbles between frequent fits of shifting fabric and material. A nightmare's breath, if it may be
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Uuuu...
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[A long, long pause.]
Nuuu. I had a dream-- a dream about somewhere I've been before.
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And the boy with my face was laughing at me because I was crying!
[He's making up the majority of this, actually, but he's not going to worry her with the truth.]
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Do you have dreams of a girl with chattering teeth-- like my dreams?
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