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Could anything be more hideous? One does not simply wake up and expect to the world to be sunshine and roses; but this, this will not do.  No one is asking for a miracle, an act of God (or whomever you see as your deity), to save us from our daily turmoil. But, who could have foreseen this?

Looking back on my life, I can remember similar events. A day would come where I would get out of bed grudgingly, not willing to see or be seen. I would trudge to work; even fake a smile, for the sake of others. But, it was never like this.

A few years back, I heard a man talking about it. He spoke about the day when I would be like him, old and bitter. I laughed, in fear, telling him I would never reach that stage. I would always see life as wonderful, joyous, and full of opportunities. A tear, if my memory serves me, was in his eye; the same way some said a twinkle was in mine. I remember him now. I have become him.

And on this door, on my very door step, I face the terror.

It’s Monday.

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