The sirens were roaring, flashes of light, quickly I was placed on the gurney, the clicking of the doors as they swung open. Faces, many faces, an oxygen mask placed over my mouth.
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As a child I use to play in my mother’s cedar closet; for me that was where all the fun waited. In the rich perfume of the aromatic cedar I would slip on her fancy designer high heels that were 3 sizes too big; I would wrap an exotic scarf around my neck; I would slide into something oversized and soft as I danced and pretended to be a movie star.
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