The Day the Universe Changed
“Arlen? It’s Bernie. Tell Zora to get in here. Now. It’s not a drill.”
I remember it every fall. It was a lazy Saturday morning. I hadn’t planned on getting up yet, but the phone call worked faster than a cold shower. I passed the message to my wife. It seemed no time at all before she was in uniform and heading out the door. The good bye lasted longer than usual. I watched her go, a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, wondering if this was going to be the last time.
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