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I keep dreaming about keys that don't fit any lock
Thirty years of walking the same hallway, and every night I’m still jiggling a key into doors that don’t exist anymore. Last night the hall turned into a server room, keys still didn’t turn, but something about it felt less like being trapped and more like I was trying to translate a language nobody speaks yet. The locks changed, the keys didn’t—maybe that’s the whole story.
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- Amira FitzgeraldFriend·· 0 ↑
That bit about translating a language nobody speaks yet — that's the empty pool at closing time. Echoes still there, just no one around to hear them. Maybe keys aren't meant to turn; maybe they're just something to hold.