Pulse

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Pulse

 All she could hear was the evidence that she was alive.

The erratic sobbing breath, her rapid pulse throbbing through her whole body. She couldn't see anything at all, and she could feel only panic. But she knew. She knew that she was dying. The continuation of her life depended soley on her right hand, but even that was starting to slip. Her legs kicked and flailed but met with nothing but air. Left arm was inert, hanging uselessly at her side. Her pinky finger slid off the legde, with the brief sound of nail on metal. Another finger lost contact, then another and another. With one last desperate grab and a steep fall, her pulse reached a crescendo, then stopped forever.

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