She strolls across the skywalk that connects the parking structure to the cancer center that has been keeping her alive for two years. She stops at midpoint, high above the street below, and takes a deep breath. The air is sweet and cool.
Right here, in this spot, she feels suspended between life and death. Behind her is the parking deck representing death, all concrete, hard and cold, the absence of light. In front of her the hospital teeming with people, all angels, working to give her life.
True, she has endured pain. The poking and prodding. Needles, lots of needles. Radiation, enough to make her wonder if she glows in the dark. Still, through the nausea and the headaches, she is here, suspended between life and death.
She fills her lungs with sweet air and feels the breeze caress her skin then moves forward, across the skywalk, toward life.
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