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Empty room, empty chairs along the walls, echoing silence,
Fluttering wings of my hands, Sahara of my mouth,
pounding prisoner of my chest.
Slow time of the clock-tick, tick-the need for something to happen.
What am I doing here? Is this a dream?
Last time I was here was when I was born.
I feel as if I am dying…
Beeping of machines, whirring of wheels on a bed
in the hallway.
Reminds me why I’m here—I panic.
Flashback to the call, urgent voice, engine of my car, double
the speed limit.
Door opens, I stand, woman walks in.
Sweat on her forehead, red blood on her white gloves.
Not happening. Not happening.
No words spoken, no words needed; eyes tell all.
Unwanted sympathy, tears of rain, howls of wolf to pale moon,
shrieking of heart, nothing I can do.
The clock no longer ticks; my river of life has ceased to flow.
Thump of knees, face wet, blurred colors, disappearing world.