ELEVEN

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"Why is this so hard?"

Ki simply stares at me.

"I don't know."

I look to the clock.

It's stopped. There are no arms moving in a clockwise motion and there is no resonating sound that goes tick tock.

"The clock is broken," I say.

Ki looks over and stands, going to double check – probably to ensure I'm seeing this correctly, that I'm not hallucinating.

"I'll have someone fix that for you."

I choke a little on the spit that has collected in my mouth and cough.

"Okay."

I look around again.

The hospital bed is the same. The white walls are the same. The mint colored scrubs that Ki wears are the same.

I keep questioning this way of life because if everything is the same, then why does it feel so different?

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