She was peeling potatoes and cutting them into perfect cubes. Her husband loved how she fried them. The curry was nearly done. Her daughter’s favorite. And then the tea she made for herself was boiling. She kept watching as it overflowed and drained down the stovetop, burning on the sides, creating a thick layer of hard stain. She was always near perfect... organized and in control... at home and at work... the stress was killing her.
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