"I suppose, in old age, there is advantage in retreating into a world of one's own, but not if the place one finds is hell."
- P.D. James, Children of Men
I was having a hard time concentrating today.
It was late at night. I remember standing outside of my apartment, underneath the yellow din of the streetlight. We were arguing about something, but I don't remember what it was. All I remember was the stress. There was so much work to do. She was getting annoyed. Something happened, and one of us blew up. Ok, I thought. I let her walk away, each step angrier than the one before. When she turned the corner, I waited for several seconds. Then I unlocked the lobby doors, a profound heaviness in my heart.
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