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The wind is blowing violently outside my window, messing up the flowers, herbs and vegetables I so carefully planted and potted a day before the lockdown started. The shops are slowly reopening, traffic is picking up again, with their noises and fumes. Bad tempers are flaring and erupting faster than usual. Patience seems to have become a thing of the past and belong to pre-corona times. It is rather ironic that one should become less patient when granted the gift of time. Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries. People need boundaries. Time is just another way of setting up boundaries. In jails, boundaries are somewhat floating, with some boundaries such as walls and hedges very clearly marked and impassable, while others, the ones pertaining to each person’s personal space much less so. However, the scene captured in a rather horrid and haunting photo that appeared in an article in the NYT , was completely beyond that any of that. The photo showed hundreds of prisoners strippe

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