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I wake up in the morning and go downstairs. There is a small closet beneath the staircase. I open it and enter. Inside, a string of white Christmas lights illuminates. There are tapestries and decorative sheets on the walls and the low sloped ceiling. One is from Tibet, given to me by a friend. The other I found at a local shop. It has the image of a tree with branches in a complex interlaced design.
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