The Wistful Grid
March 12, 2024 My fingers are stained with the blue ink of the intake forms I have been copying by hand for the third time this week, the wet pigment smearing across the back of my right hand where I have been gripping the pen too tightly, a tightness that has traveled up my wrist and settled into a dull ache in my shoulder that I have stopped trying to shake out. I am sitting in the visitor’s...
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