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Chapter 3
I am not the young man I used to be, back when I jumped from perfectly good planes in foreign desert lands. Those days are over. But at the moment, I feel the exact reason I gave up the fun stuff of my youth. Those times got you killed. I was fortunate enough to pass the baton with a knee and ankle injury. But as the pain reminded me of my glory days, it took second place because, here I am now, with empty lungs, bereft of resident air, lying face up on the tarmac, resourcefulness, clutching my briefcase firmly to my chest to keep my link to Em secure. Yet, I'm pretty sure my laptop didn't make the trip. I feel a crunch beneath my forearms. No one made the leap after me. Their loss, I figure.
As I attempt to convince air to regain residence in my lungs, I observe an odd sight in the sky—actually, several sights, as I quirk my eye. Time has once again slowed to a snail's pace amidst the rushing chaos. Above me is a formation of gray jellyfish floating on…
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