We’re all subject to luck, and luck had me draw the short straw.
It could have been any of us.
We said our goodbyes, no tears shed.
I sit now looking around at this room, cleaner than any place I’ve ever been.
The broker talked endlessly about how all this was to be painless, but I’m still frightened.
I try to imagine all that this money will buy, but my mind is drifting.
All those pieces of me, how they’ll live on in these people.
My lungs, my heart, even my eyes.
What will these strangers see through my eyes?
