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The world felt like it was in the middle of a long, slow exhale.
People drifted in a hazy contentment.
That was the problem.
Sometimes we notice. Sometimes we don't. It's like the humming of an electric fan. Always in the background. At first, we notice. But as time goes on, it folds itself into an unattended part of our consciousness. And then it stops.
That's the feeling.
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