When I was younger, I was terrified of matadors and the people who threw the tassels into the bull. And so, when I would get my night terrors, I would sleep ram into things thinking they were matadors. This was fine if it was a blanket or a stuffed animal, but the final time it was a locked door. Now, I have scars running through my eyebrow from trying to run down a doorknob in my sleep π
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