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The house is silent.

Well, not silent. There’s a fan going, and the overhead lights in the kitchen are humming. The gas logs are hissing, and occasionally a floorboard creaks. But for the most part, the house is silent.

I am alone with my thoughts in a house full of love.

The eye in the storm. I’ll get back to school and have another mountain to level and a spoon to do it with. But right now, there is calm and quiet. My sense of urgency is numbed. For the time being.

And I am grateful.

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