Just as I'm about to reach out and touch my old friend, a blur of blonde hair flashes in front of my eyes, forcing me to turn and focus my eyes above. The blur appears again, faster this time. As if it's urging me to see something… to do something. Death's song fades farther away, and I can hear Gabe’s heavy footsteps trudging up and down the hall. I could swear a woman yells something above my head, snapping my attention back to the counter, where I can now see my butcher block is sitting right on the edge. I blink at it slowly. That's weird. I don't remember moving it there. It's always
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