A heart is a beating machine. It's an organ, it's a force beyond all reckoning.
The doctor will now see you," said the nurse in all white.
I glared, knocked over my coffee and walked behind her, moving towards my fate. I would hear that my beating heart skipped beats-a heart murmur. Murmur echoing in my head. Mumu-a dress I wore in Hawaii as a young girl. My mother was in Pearl Harbor when the Japanese attacked.
The doctor was in the room before I was. Is this a good sign. He's anxious to tell me my heart will explode. Like a bomb, like those fighter planes in the sky beating down on the Hawaiian landscape terrorizing people. I have a friend who is Japanese and she's delightful. History is history and no one judges from the past. The past is gone swallowed up by the ticking clock and our forward movement into the future, but everyone says the now is most important. Isn't it? I wonder about so many things in the moment. Like is what we see what we get? There are a multitude of dimensions occurring at the same time. Things are happening simultaneously. The doctor looked past me to the nurse. She shut the door with me inside with doctor. He looked at me and said, "I knew your mother in Pearl Harbor" just before she died we talked and I remember you as a little girl. My heart skipped a beat and I found myself in his arms crying for the past that was swallowed up by time.

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Galen almost 10 years ago

I like the connections: beats - murmurs - mumus - Hawaii - Pearl Harbor - Japan - History -- Great stream of consciousness.

SarahMcCarthyMackay (joined almost 10 years ago)

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Pearl Harbor The Doctor My Heart

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