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I was at the hospital today. Studying the map. Trying to decipher the floor-plan. Registry of live-births just across the corridor from the morgue. Like some twisted version of Murphy’s Law.

We celebrate the birth of a new life. We mourn the end that is death. And in-between, we fumble and stumble and rumble our way through. Knowing we have started the journey, knowing we must finish the trip. Come ride with me, the more the merrier.

I wonder why they say Friday the 13th is an inauspicious day?