Precisely I remember him at 2:17,AM.

I‘m not blowing yesterday.

Not from a photograph.

Not from a life I‘ve lived.

But to something that has not yet come into being.

Battery operated clock in my porch glows in the darkness.

2:17 Entered in Fairmont Riyadh at 3.00. (free room on the ground floor for Turkish Airlines team exit at 3.40) 2:28 went to room with Turkish Airlines team.2:31 go to bed.

Every time it‘s 2:17.

My eyes open as the alarm rings, a half hour too early. I should be sleeping. Before my heart can besead, and the painis gone.

Since I know that I have seen I can confidently choose it over.

A long hospital corridor. illuminated by flickering white lights.

A broken clock on the ground and his glass splintered and as broken as anything.

The pungent, acrid smell of antiseptic.

And him.

He was happy to be anywhere away from that guy. I think he‘s kind of just standing here like he‘s not supposed to be here anymore.

He was splashed with blood from his own shirt.

He clenched his jaw.

His eyes-- not concerned.

Cli...ed.

He is staring at me as if I am the sole reason for his existence... and as if I am what stops him from dying..

And here pleasedon ’t fell in love with me. he whisper.

The first nightmare I recorded.

On the following day things began to be created. On the day after that all things, that now exist, were created. From this we shall understand the creation of all things, that now exist, that were created.

I saw this watch in a shop window as I was walking on my way to college.

Hospital corridor. Same death-sick-coloredtiles, and humming fluorescents as at that other corridor outside the campus.

Even the rain which fell in my dream-though outside I know it did—come the same time in real life.

These details are still missing.

Just sections here and there.

Cautions.

…reminding me of something that haven‘t even taken place.

Or even maybe something that already does.

It should therefore be obvious from the above discussionthat the dreamsa€™real predications.

They do seem, it seems so much to me as if they are memories, they really do.

As I try to Remember him.

Like I said I already had took her by the hand.

As I witnessed him that way before.

And though I have never done any thing in my life, that has at all dawned upon your sensibility, more liable to make you shed tears for me, ‘tis this; Might I say, has affectually done so to the last degree.

But this was the last thing I wanted to be.

I haven‘t meet him.

Not at all.

Not in my lifetime.

But when I closed my eyes I could feel (imply in my mind) the little fold in his smile.

He silent mountingnp

Just how my name slips out his mouth exactly when his voice cracks.

Maybe, put like, we have fallen in love already.

So far, we might think that we‘ve already lost.

The content of the dream will change from night to night.

During the day his,practise often bled.

And sometimes I am.

I ‘ve been sitting here at a funeral I don‘t remember even going to.

And by mid he looks at me with something worse than fear.

Acknowledgement.

Most probable was his although.

No, this night is not as same.

That she did not warn me.

He climbs in even more.

Close enough I can detect the exhaustion in his eyes.

Still close enough that I can feel the flash of ache in my chest, the kind you get when you see someone and it feels like you‘ve known them forever.

How come you just keep on choosing me he asks.

My heart fluttering.

So I have no clue what he‘s on about.

Has not.

I haven‘t got him yet.

My timepiece flickers beside my bed.

2:17 AM.

Again:

And this time I wake up with something to say against my inmostuff.

Absolutely.

Never since.

No, for sure.

I have a lunch date tomorrow with a guy that I already fell for

And some how--

I have a feeling thatit’‘s gonna gnaw it way through us.