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Behind Sealed Doors

To say that the pandemic lock down had shook her would be an understatement. Of course, it had shaken everyone up; loosening ties to reality day-by-day, replacing the physical with the virtual bit-by-bit, and transforming mindset in a slippery and unknowable way. In those early days of the lockdown, the uncertainty of the damage the virus might inflict was equal to the uncertainty of the mental toll wrought by living life in the same few rooms and repeating the same few patterns. This isn’t to say that she spent her time running amidst the old house in a state of slobbering insanity. In fact, if anything, she was too calm. Too poised. Too quiet. The madness roiled inside her deep beneath the surface, but she had no way to call upon it because she had no name for it. She was one of the fortunate ones; she had work, a home, and her health. She had nothing to blame for that rumbling discomfort that too often set in her chest and threatened to erupt in perhaps violent ways, but for the goo

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