The Crash

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I remember; Oh I remember. I remember the flowers, the fog, the ocean. I loved collecting the swirly shells, delicate little things that lay on the shore. I remember the waves, the push the pull, the tranquility, the silence. I always came here, ever since I was 4. I liked the ocean, it made me feel like the sky is the limit. The ocean was a good place, until that one morning. I remember the cold, crisp winter morning, the mist, the figure that came out of the fog. I remember the man, the man was crying. He approached me, looking sad. “Your mother and sister are dead, they were run over on the road... I'm so sorry, Willie” I remember the falling, the crashing, the funeral, the eulogy.

But then there was something, something I don't remember... a constant, annoying high pitched beep... what could it be? That's when I woke up to the annoyingly repetitive sound of my alarm clock reminding me that I had to go to work today. I wasn't six years old again, I was 43 years old for Pete's sake! I hate mornings like this. That's until I remember the faces of my patients, all the people I've ...

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