The party was sprawling down the lawn towards the harbor, splashes of bright colors against blue skies, scudding white clouds and a crystal clear view of the Boston skyline. It reminded me of the dream I had taken across the threshold into morning. It had been years since I had seen that dreamscape, but there it was, whole and healed and perfect: me, making a graceful dive from a wooden pier into a deep, pristine lake, surrounded by snow-capped mountains, pine forests and the clearest air in the world. Wearing a lime-green one-piece and curves that were, finally, all my own.
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