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... s a chronically sleep-deprived little techie.


"Wake me for din-din, please. I hafta see Iria-chan and stuff," she said.


I knocked on the atelier door, waited for a response, then turned the knob.


The floors were uncarpeted hardwood. In some ways, it reminded me of the art room in my elementary school, except of course that this room wasn't lined with scarred-up desks and there weren't any fake-looking plaster sculptures. It wasn't as big either. The total area of th ...

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