She takes her hand off the handle and crumbles to her knees.
It is the last burst of momentum that she had and she knows it.
The father puts his hand on her shoulder. “We’re better
waiting,” he says. She believes him.
The announcement will come, surely.
But it never does.
They wait for months, but eventually the generator fails.
Without it, the air filtration stops working.
It takes time.
Slow, painful time.
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