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Plastic Wrap

Cling Wrap

My mother and I stand beside the bed of a dying old woman who stops breathing and turns green. We unroll six feet of cling wrap. It keeps clinging to itself; it is extremely difficult to keep it flat. Holding it by the corners, we place it carefully on top of the old woman – who starts breathing, and turns pink. We pull the plastic back off. Mom balls it up and hides it behind her back. The old woman sits up and asks us what we were doing. NOTHING, we say.

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