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Aug 2010
An uneventful car ride from the misty foothills to the flat highways of the city. Not a word passed between the two other travelers and I.

Silent infection spreading through organs. Unknowing.
Pallid skin, sunken eyes. Something's not right with this picture.

We arrived at the hospital before the muggy heat had warmed the sidewalk. A building too tall and too clean to be holding any good news inside its walls.

You walked through the doors with a heavy air of confidence, head up and shoulders squared. After every vial of blood tested, every swelling ***** inspected, every heart beat recorded, and question asked- that air remained the same, while mine was quickly disappearing.

I would gladly trade places with you in a heart beat.
Hell, I'd even give my heart to you.
Written by
andTrees
952
     D Conors
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