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Drifting into Death
When they say it happens in an instant, they aren't lying. A collision full of scrap metal, screams, gasoline, and death. Gas seeps into my wife’s fingers, hair, mouth, and leaks into her soul, poisoning her life. I watch as layers of skin bubble in the heat, and her eyes melt into milk that will soon soak her brain. Our future drifts away along with the smoke. My daughter’s head rests on the glowing engine. Her crisp hair form somewhat of a halo around her head. The face that once was innocent and pure drips off, leaving a mask of agony and demise. I, however, got up and walked away, untouched and unaffected.
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