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closetothefloor — For Those Who Are Living
Published: 2004-12-22 21:08:49 +0000 UTC; Views: 37; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 1
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Description "No! No!"
Your cry, ripping up the letter.
"No! This isn't happening!"
You rush out the door, slamming it behind you.
"He isn't dead! He's not DEAD!"
   Your cries and pleas ring in your ear, but they don't matter. He's gone, and there's nothing you can do. You run down the street, faster and faster. Maybe if you trip and fall you will wake up from this nightmare.
   Your eyes are clouded by tears as you run down the street. You can not see through the blur, because you are crying so hard.
   Something hits your foot, you don't care what, making you crash to the ground - you knew it would happen eventually. Holding your hand to you face, you look  up to see what made you fall.
   It's a man. An old man, and he is clutching a long, white poll, maybe a cane. On his jacket are three war medals. His eyes are closed.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he says, weazing slightly "Wasn't watching where my cane was going...not that I ever can..." he whispers, as he continues to walk down the street, his cane guiding him.
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