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Man the Gate

One morning as the welcome light of dawn spilled through my kitchen windows, I shuffled half-asleep toward the aroma wafting from my coffee machine. “Good morning.” My neighbor’s voice snapped my eyelids wide. “What…?” My heart pounded like a jackhammer in my throat as I blinked at the sight of my green-haired neighbor sitting at my kitchen table with his pregnant wife, drinking my morning coffee and eating my toast and eggs.

 

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