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I think there’s an almost primal fear of closets. It starts when you’re a kid, but it never really leaves you in adulthood. Sure, I don’t think there’s a monster in my closet, but on nights when I get back to my apartment and all of the lights are switched off, you can bet that I walk around slowly turning lights on and preparing for the worst.
Turns out, my fears might be justified if I lived in Montana.
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