The other week I dreamnt --
I'm at the side of an above-ground train boarding platform, and there by the bare concrete floor and cinderblock wall is a small open trashcan that I go up to and look into, and in there there are some things that I'd thrown out, including a (70s-style) (light tan) (synthetic fur) shirt-top that I'd decided to get rid of, since it was mildly stained and mussed and no longer quite wearable, if you want to look good.
And, I pull it out of the trash, since I decide on second thought that I can wash it, and donate it to a local resale shop.
And then, I wake up.
. . .
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