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The yin and yang of the pandemic
Kathy Bradley
The lights in the arena had gone down and the musicians on stage were well into their second or third number. The people around me were still talking in loud voices and the aisles were full of people, late-arriving people, trying to find their seats in the dark. Their silhouettes bobbed across my field of vision like the ducks in an old-fashioned arcade game, but I was without the pop-gun that would knock them over and clear the view.
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