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Goldfish looking pretty good

One minute I was having the best of dreams and the next, my eyelids dragged themselves up off my eyeballs to reveal the night—black as the inside of a cow.

I looked at the clock. It was 2:30 a.m. The soft jingle of a Christmas bell rolling across the floor pulled my carcass to a sitting position.

I listened. The bell rolled along, bumping into static objects, where it stopped jingling until a kitten paw knocked it back across the floor. I flat-stared the darkness.

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