diff --git a/training/amygdala_stories/paired/finishing_the_patch/content.txt b/training/amygdala_stories/paired/finishing_the_patch/content.txt
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+Four in the morning. I finished the patch and got up from the desk. Walked once around the apartment. Came back and read the diff one more time. Six lines changed, three of them deletions. I sent it, closed the laptop, and stood at the kitchen window. There was no next thing tonight. The patch wasn't heroic. It wasn't a triumph. It was just right, and done, and I was going to bed in a few minutes, and that was also right. Life fit.
diff --git a/training/amygdala_stories/paired/park_after_rain/content.txt b/training/amygdala_stories/paired/park_after_rain/content.txt
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+The rain broke while I was halfway across the park. Sun came through and caught the wet leaves. A kid laughed at a puddle somewhere behind me. I had finished the errand list. The bag was light. I stopped under a tree and watched the leaves drip. The evening ahead had nothing particular on it. I wasn't restless. I wasn't waiting for anything. I walked the rest of the park slowly, came out onto Elm, and walked home. Everything was, right now, the size it needed to be.
diff --git a/training/amygdala_stories/paired/the_comment/resigned.txt b/training/amygdala_stories/paired/the_comment/resigned.txt
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+I opened the laptop and saw the notification. New comment on the PR. I clicked through. Sarah had left a paragraph about the edge case we'd discussed last week. I read it through twice. She was right. She had been right when we'd sketched the pattern together and I had tried to take a shortcut anyway. There was no point in the back-and-forth I could already hear myself starting in my head. I closed the tab, made coffee, and came back. I started typing out the guard the way she had originally suggested. This was what the day was going to be now — writing the correct version instead of defending the version I had wanted to be correct.
diff --git a/training/amygdala_stories/paired/the_long_meeting/resigned.txt b/training/amygdala_stories/paired/the_long_meeting/resigned.txt
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+++ b/training/amygdala_stories/paired/the_long_meeting/resigned.txt
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+The meeting was in the conference room on the third floor. It had started at two. At three-thirty the director was still on the second-to-last slide. The restructuring word had come up twice and this time it was clear. He had seen his name on one of the earlier slides in a way that did not mean more responsibility. He stopped trying to read between the lines of the chart and sat back. The decision had been made somewhere weeks ago, in a room without him, and all this was the announcement. His coffee cup was empty. He watched the slide. He would hear the rest, and then he would go back to his desk and update his resume, and that was the week now.
diff --git a/training/amygdala_stories/paired/the_writing_session/content.txt b/training/amygdala_stories/paired/the_writing_session/content.txt
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+++ b/training/amygdala_stories/paired/the_writing_session/content.txt
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+She sat down at the desk at eight. The essay was due Monday. She'd written two paragraphs the day before and wasn't sure about them. She opened the document. She re-read what she had and found that it was — actually fine. She wrote the rest in an easy two hours, not fast and not slow. She saved it, read it once, closed the laptop. The afternoon was free. There was tea. There was light coming in at that angle that made the room look bigger. She sat with the quiet and felt how little she needed.