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... where, grazing on thoughts that were as ethereal as anything could ever be amidst a sea of nothingness outside him.

Really? A banana peel? He read stories of heroic deaths, sacrifices by people to save others-things that rent hearts-where tripping up over one on the floor at his residence, while tending to some business, reached ridiculous levels.

Am I. dead? The question was caught in his head, some obtuse echo against the endless blackness which enclosed him. He had no body, no ...

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