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     It's too late to be going out and you sit dodwn to work on the pile of reports that Angela so kindly bestowed upon you on a Friday afternoon.  You are fairly proficient at projects such as this and you manage to complete the work in just over a couple hours.  You reach under the dusty lampshade and click off the small black knob.  The light snaps off, leaving you in darkness.  You stand for a moment, waiting for your eyes to adjust.  You grab your phone and turn on the flashlight, making your way to your bedroom.  Disappointment churns in the pit of your stomach as you slip off the exceedingly low cut shirt and peel off your jeans.  You throw on an old tee shirt and make your way to the bed.  You ruffle the comforter of the unmade bed, making it a bit straighter and slide into bed.  You puff your pillow up and jam it behind your head.  The sheets feel cool next to your warm skin.  A chill raises goosebumps across your arms as your body heat warms the cotton blend.  You turn your head and stare longingly at the empty pillow next to you.  A pang of sadness pierces your heart.  It's not like that spot in your bed has ever been filled in any permanence, but if feels like it should be.  You roll to the opposite side, away from the empty void, and drift off to sleep.  



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