Conditional Reality

We went to the blood bank, intending to donate a pint. While we waited we sat leafing through a magazine. It contained a short item stating that all the human blood in the world would barely fill one thousand Olympic sized swimming pools. The mental image this conjured—undulating red waves—made us so queasy we had to lie down on the waiting room couch. A concerned nurse approached and asked if we were ok. She quickly grew blurry. Just before passing out we asked for a cookie and some juice. The spinning room got very dark, then winked out.

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