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That night, the clouds looked
like the very fibers of our being
as I sat at a red light, read holiday
traffic headlights, made eye
contact with every neon sign and
tried to decide in my head which
ones were allowed to stay but
none of them could. Passed
the prison as it started to rain. I
grew more enraged, felt my heart
sink and swing within a cage of
its own. Black Friday late night
door-busters in lightening looked
like slow-motion riots and I felt
trapped in them, eager to move,
to evade all stillness and its