Surreptitious Comments

During our recent, year-long pandemic imprisonment, my room - which, objectively, is a very nice room - seemed to transform, late-nights, into a tomb. I had to open all the windows just to feel like I could breathe.

Night after night, when the lights were out, I'd lay perfectly still, perfectly awake until all-hours, listening to crickets. There must be a billion of them in Georgia.
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