Sean sat in the anticipation, counting the seconds. The quiet of the room accentuated the hum of the fridge from the kitchen as if it's boring into his soul. Sweat dripped down his brow. He brushed it away with a trembling hand. The room was a perfect temperature, yet Sean was flushed with heat. His leg bounced in a repetitive restless motion. Outside, the leaves on the trees danced with careless abandon; the glass separated the two realities, for the wind blew even when his world had stopped. Time is no concept for a man who's seen death; life is not measured by your number of breaths. Those are Sean's favorite song lyrics. They've been floating around in his head for the past few days. They seemed to ring more true now. A bike engine rumbled up the driveway, cutting off seconds later. A figure passed by the window. There's a soft knock at the door. the moment he was waiting for. Sean crossed the room in three strides, hesitating with his hand on the knob… He turned it. The door swung open to reveal his wife, looking as good as ever.

Sean is sitting at the dining table with his wife. The morning sun shines in the window, casting bright patches on the table and walls.
"Honey?" Sara prompts.
"Hmm…?"
"I asked if you're excited for our first anniversary date today?"
"Oh. Yes I am.
"I have a few errands to run, I expect to be back in a couple hours."
"Ok. I'll see you then.
Sara gets up from the table. She walks over to Sean, kissing him goodbye.
"Love you babe." Sean conveys.
"love you more!" The door swings shut behind her.
Sean plans to buy flowers to plant in the front yard. He figures he'll have just enough time to walk down to the flower shop, and be able to plant them before Sara gets back. He waits by the window until she pulls off on her motorcycle. Sean slips his shoes on, heading out the front door. The local garden center is only a few blocks away. He starts down the sidewalk. The day is sunny and warm. A gentle breeze blows through the tree tops, rustling the leaves in a sound like the ocean.
Sean is so lost in thought, he doesn't even realize when he's reached the store until he's nearly passed it. He heads inside. marigolds, roses, and petunias are what Sean is after. He locates the flowers of choice. The total payed is forty-seven sixty. Sean begins the walk back to his house, carrying the crate of flowers. After arriving, he sets the flowers down on the front lawn, heading for the shed at the back of the house. Sean retrieves a few tools, heading back to the front. He begins methodically digging holes in the flower bed. Each hole is precisely placed, exactly the way he thinks Sara will like it. After some time of digging, planting, and filling in the holes, he reaches a meditative state. All of his problems seem to melt away; Sean becomes one with the task. He Is almost sad when the flowers run out. Sean looks over his work. The flowers are well placed, scattered intentionally around the bed. Next comes the watering. Sean gets the hose from the side of the house; he snakes it around to the front. Watering the flowers wasn't nearly as much fun as planting them, but it's still something to do. After the task is complete, he squares away all of the tools before heading inside. He changes into clean, nicer clothes. Sara should be back soon. The flower endeavor took nearly two hours; Sean is startled by how quickly the time passed. He sits down on the living room couch, waiting. He checks his phone a few times. half an hour passes, no word. Usually she'd text when she's heading home. The phone call startles him, but when he looks at the screen; it's not Sara's number that pops up. He answers. "Hello?"
"Hello. Is this Sean Castor?" The woman's voice inquires.
"Yes?"
"Your wife was in a motorcycle accident an hour ago. She's stable now, but in critical condition."

Sean barely remembers racing his motorcycle to the hospital. All he knows is here and now. He sits next to his wife's hospital bed; the ventilator keeping her breathing hums with a gentle consistency. Sean isn't sure how long he's been sitting here for. The doctor's told him she was placed in a medically induced coma because she had suffered brain swelling. The police came to talk to him a while ago; they haven't been able to locate the driver who hit her bike. Sean's eyes are like constant wells. He tried wiping them, but they just fill back up. Nothing can console him. Sean's phone rings. He declines the call without even looking at it. Sean can't bring himself to talk to anyone right now; he feels so alone, so removed from reality. Everything is like a dream. The phone rings again. Red rage boils inside of him; all of his sadness transmutes to fury. Who is this person who dares disturb him in this moment of agony? He answers.
"What?!"
"Is this Sean Castor, Husband to Sara Castor?" A woman with a calm tone asks.
"Yes. And who the fuck are you?"
"I'm Mila. I represent a company called Conscious Corp. Have you ever heard of it?"
"Why are you calling me?"
"Your wife had a–session with us just earlier today. We heard about her accident."
"What-do-you-want?"
"It's simple sir. We're working on experimental technology to copy human consciousness to a digital medium. If it becomes necessary, we can build a cutting edge artificial body, and imprint her consciousness to it."
Sean is speechless for a moment. "How dare you… She's not dead." He hangs up the phone, turning it off for good measure. What was that? Copy human consciousness, artificial body. The woman's words swirl in his head. Sean's chest feels heavy as if he's breathing with an elephant on it. His heart begins beating fast. Too fast. Before he knows what's happening, he's running. Running. Through halls. Past people. More halls. Doors. Fresh air. The evening sun is low in the sky. The air is still. It's as if the world keeps moving while he stays frozen.