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On the edge of crippling pressures, I find myself in contemplation, sailing towards another dilemma, in front of a glass and spoon. Remedy: fill them.
The percolation dissolves my island, my mind, melting swiftly. I savour the paradox. Finer moments when walls of worries disappear, mesmerised by spoonfuls of affogato.
Verity Always wrote this story.