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I prefer these days, when it is not so unbearably hot. The cool green trees all around. I can tell people are starting to move around again. I see them at the glass. They yearn for each other and cannot speak. They know what happens if they try.


I hold up signs, yell, try the door. Nobody sees. They don't hear yelling. They just hear questions. That's all I can give them. Nobody knows I'm here. I'm here. I'm here.

The days drop farther and farther into nothing.

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