keywriter.

The storm is strong, all the birds hide and wind roars through narrow alleyways, but i am within these fortified walls -- insulation, bricks, cement -- and i feel no power, and i am alone
Needing a window to feel through
We hurtle over days forgetting memory and wonder, we swing from one secluded security to the next and we try to leave the mighty beauty of the storm behind us; you remind us and we avoid; you touch us and we fear.

[from instalment one]
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