Click to watch Dysthymia I don’t really want to do anything —  not peep through the small doors at mice living out unimaginative lives or run a finger over the beaded skin of a rattling snake, coaxing venom. In my mind I could be anywhere, and yet —  out of the piles of driftwood, small crabs are fighting for their well-armoured lives, and so I stoop with...

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