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| 3/3 A slow and stingy day accented by the faint high of 409 fumes in close quarter while I wiped piss and pubes from the toilet. |
While cleaning the bathrooms at the end of my shift, I noticed this narrative gem streaming through my head. Something about its rhythm or flow caused me to abruptly pause cleaning and bust out my field journal. Someday, a character in a story will experience this.
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