The Distant Journey
The air in the atrium of St. Jude’s General Hospital was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the low, thrumming hum of fluorescent lights that buzzed like trapped insects, a sound that had settled into the marrow of my bones long before I realized I was counting the seconds between my own heartbeats and the rhythmic chirp of the cardiac monitor beside me. I sat in the rigid plastic chair, my...
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