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[personal profile] lesliethompkins
The year has a particular cycle. Birthdays come and go. As do anniversaries, both joyful and sorrowful. Leslie remembers them all. For they are the glue that binds the days together. One might think with a schedule as chaotic as hers that she would forget to mark the passing of days important. The unpredictable however makes her more cognizant of events past, moments etched in history and commemorated with regularity.

Instead of making her usual trip to the manor, she steers the car elsewhere. It isn't a distant drive but the memories make it lengthy. She parks and steps out into the warm breeze. Summer is just around the corner and the flowers that have erupted in spurts around the cemetery are proof.

One year ago today, she lost a patient on the operating table. She watched with a heart heavy as last words were exchanged between older and younger, between teacher and student, between experienced and inexperienced. In the end, those words did not save her. Nothing could have saved her, nothing short of a miracle. That miracle didn't come.

Leslie didn't know the girl all that well. Perhaps that is part of the tragedy. Opportunities lost are mourned just as easily as relationships that never were. She should have taken the time. Those chances are long since gone now. All that is left is a marker, a name, and images of a life taken before its time.

Stephanie Brown.

Bruce would be here if he were able, standing in the very spot Leslie now occupies. She finds herself decidedly thankful that he isn't.

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Dr. Leslie Thompkins

February 2017

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