Children, more like toddlers run down the hall underneath large blue streamers hosting silhouettes of sea turtles and whale sharks. Chasing after them, my body rebels. At 49, every part of my body moves in protest. Worse yet, there's no comfort in rest. My legs want to swim while me head desires a pillow. Those eight hours of sleep do not exist in my world. When I wake, my back cries out. Guess this old age. My new job is to embrace it.
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