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Sleet on the turnpike in the middle of the night but I keep driving, both hands on the wheel, nowhere to pull off, and a yellow bus comes over the line and kisses my truck. That's all I remember. Now I'm in bed, wired to things, unable to move, listening to a doctor telling my wife, "It's been two weeks, no improvement." He asks her nicely if we should let him go, the dimwit bastard. If I could, I'd scream but I can't even wiggle my toes. Donal Mahoney

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 3/10/2017 9:36:00 AM
Well done. Goosebump producing.
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