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May 2, 2020
The sunlight racing through the window behind me etches a square on the floor. It moves across the floor during the morning, over to my chair, climbing up the side and onto the padded arm. It moves over my keyboard and across my fingers. I can feel its heat on the backs of my fingers as I type. I can feel the heat stored in the keys against my fingertips. I can see the reflection of my fingers in the screen, moving, clearly lit. The gnarled, muscled, hairy digits dance in the light like proud performers on a brightly-lit stage.