The image sliced its way into her view. When she had sat there, it doesn’t matter where, eyes dry, back hunched, the numb act of breathing tiredly. And then she realized that her room wasn’t just lit by the yellow lightbulb burning from the dusty black lamp. The sky had gone from nothing to a dusty blue, and the silence was being pierced with the awake chatter of birds. She left the droopy room and stepped outside, really outside. Even though the sun was still nowhere to be seen, she did not need a jacket. The smell of marinating grass greeted her, the coolness of the brand new air permeated her skin. Although her view was just the same row of identical houses with identical front lawns, always in that moment, the world is more alive than she will ever experience.

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