So. Here I am, poignantly not-doing work. Outside it's raining like the end of the world is here. Rain and hail and the sort of thunder that makes it easy to understand why once upon a time people thought it was the Gods
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today my rage is the colour of poppies and arterial blood, a bright, vibrant red. it is quick and free flowing and inside of me today is neither hawk nor wolf but fox, strong jawed, lying low but ready to snap
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