We Made the Past Our Playground
I last saw my girlfriend around seventeen years ago. Although for me, it was last week.
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I last saw my girlfriend around seventeen years ago. Although for me, it was last week.
The steady droning of fluorescent lights buzzed through the perpetually cold morgue. A sound that, after three years, had woven its way into my sense of peace as comforting and familiar as my own breathing. Carl muttered under his breath as he wrestled with the finicky coffee machine before it spurted out the coveted drink. It wasn’t just the vending machine that put him in such a grumpy mood. We had gotten another new intern. Some emo kid with a gauge piercing and nose ring, obsessed with…
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