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The wind is booming in the chimney. The clock ticks. The house sighs and creaks. Silence is so precious to me. It’s a luxury, and indulgence, like lobster, new underwear or a pedicure.

I fucking love when the house is silent. There is nothing I want to hear more. Alone. No needs to meet. No questions to answer. No smile to force.

There is mess. There is a sleeping baby. There is a never-ending list. So much I should be doing. An angry voice in my ear. It comes from me.

Shut up. Let me enjoy my silence.

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