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Photo by Oscar Keys | Unsplash

On Consciousness

Fainting and My Fallibility

What would that look like here? Here by the beans? With these specific individuals around me? In this outfit?

What if I drop now, staring at the lacquered eyes of the check-out clerk? Or now, foot on the gas, 60 mph, with a string of distracted commuters behind me?

I’m not the only one, it seems, who breathes much easier in a field of beans than in the produce section.

Write it down.

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