I used to think that if you worked hard enough, the idea of “enough” would eventually stop feeling uncertain.
Enough food. Enough warmth. Enough stability to open the fridge without silently calculating what was left.
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I used to think that if you worked hard enough, the idea of “enough” would eventually stop feeling uncertain.
Enough food. Enough warmth. Enough stability to open the fridge without silently calculating what was left.
The fluorescent, tube style lighting of the pediatric clinic staff pantry hummed a dull, monotonous, vibrating tune. It was a frequency that usually faded…