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    MICROBE II

    The warm sunshine struggled through the heavy fog that hang above the town. The morning seemed calm and quiet, such that one would be led to believe that all was well with the world. From a red Corrado that had just sped into the hospital’s parking lot, emerged a man. It was 7.00 am. The…

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    Waterways

    Our souls, like waterways, reveal themselves in gradations of being: there are streams—crystalline and clear, where sunlight shines through to the shimmering stones beneath the surface; and there are rivers—tempestuous in their temperament, and as you traverse their serpentine paths, you can find both rapids that roar and a silent stillness somewhere that, if you…

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