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She sat fidgeting with the clothespin, spinning it between her index finger and thumb, squeezing the ends, analyzing the tension of the spring. With her free hand, she pinched the skin of her inner thigh and eased the pin in place. A ghostly white circle surrounded the tip of the pin as it jutted from her leg. She tried with all her might to will feeling where no feeling existed. Her will failed. It always failed.

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