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Weekly Contest #372
Content warning; This story contains themes of death and loss. If you are sensitive to these topics, you may want to skip this reading or proceed with caution. I kept thinking that I couldn't wait to go home as I sat at the dining room table of the foster care shelter in which I worked. I stared at the clock, eleven p.m.; that meant three more hours left of my shift. Even three hours had felt like forever. I got up from the table and pushed my chair in. I couldn't be reckless because all the residents were supposed to be asleep. One wrong ...
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