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{stress interview} noel sloboda Once the door locked, she became a map: proxy for mile upon mile of terrain, under swirling colors, below the palms of an overzealous meteorologist. She felt him track a nasty southbound system— all those semaphores to articulate the scope of imminent disaster rolling across the country. She thought everyone should know enough to stay out of harm’s way, hidden in some basement— but then some folks never do listen to warnings: some folks have to work. |
