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December 3, 2002
Some nights anger enters out of nowhere. It comes in the back door like the cold winter wind, hangs heavy, permeates the air, travels through the heating ducts till it fills every room. Gathers on the window and freezes as it drips down towards the floor. I almost slip on it with every step I take. It fills my lungs, and cramps my stomach tight. The dogs hide from it; one in the closet, one behind the couch. I follow it up and down the stairs, hoping I can grab hold of it and throw it back into the darkness.