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... turns a shade of gray and backs into an obscure corner.
I've felt this way for days. So much I want to do, and so unsure where to begin. I keep walking outside and staring at the chickens. The cochins run up to me, chickens in poodle pants, and crouch down at me feet begging to be picked up. I pick them up and stroke their fluffy necks. I bring them fancy food from the refrigerator. Right now ...
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