Title: Optional

Text: Just show up. That's all I've been doing, showing up. Time goes by faster at work. Shift work, treat and street, a few lost souls. You're with them when they are most vulnerable. When they're naked, weak, hurt. We touch them, look at their bodies, see them more closely than their families, their lovers. But it's mechanical, you know, temporary. You fix them up or you watch them die. Either way, it ends and you move on. No next time, no strings, no real connection. Maybe that's why I stay. Each paragraph will be a test.

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