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... se.
Not the fancy kind. Not ornate or dramatic.
Just plain ones. Bathroom. Hallway. Closet doors.
And every time I catch my reflection, I wonder who I’ve become.
Because I used to know. I used to be someone predictable.
Practical. Steady. Careful.
Now?
Now I look like a woman on the verge of doing something irreversible.
And maybe the worst part is that I don’t hate it.
9:45 AM — The Hoodie Incident
I should’ve hidde ...
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