My eyes take me to a basketball court back in my hometown. I don't see myself playing the game but I see familiar faces of old friends. Everything seems green to me, from the ball, backboard, post, benches and the playground itself. I am sitting like a child motioning my eyes to and fro at the busy dribblers. Beside the court is a close friend's house. This friend of mine finished his college with a major in Psychology but he appears to me in my dream as a physician.

I approach him and tell him I have been recuperating from hepatitis but haven't really gotten over it. (I was told that the disease becomes a part of your system and there's no way of doffing it of yourself.)

He gesticulates that we go to the side of the court though. He wears what seems like a white lab gown with a stethoscope around his neck. He asks me to lie down and he opens my stomach with a pair of scissors. Strange but I don't see any blood out and I don't feel any pain. Moments later, he starts pulling a never ending length of green thread wreathed with green pellet guns. He explains it as the reason I won't ever get over my liver disease.

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