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Panting, scared, the shelter airlock smashes down behind you. You wish you did not have to go outside, but you do. It would be easier to give up. But you don’t. The hardship, the hunger, the thirst. The fear. You keep reminding yourself why you stay alive. Why you do this. Then you hear it. “Daddy you’re back.” You wife’s face lights up and you open a bag full of medical supplies. You need not tell her how you got them. You simply enjoy your small victory in this, the harshest of times.
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