As he looked out the plane window, he heaved a sigh of relief, he missed one important meeting, he mumbled to himself, "It's alright, I'm not perfect." He looked at the plane route, he is almost there, he had forgotten everything.
He dealt with the ghosts of his past.
They were all virtually annihilated.
He thought of two words. Tabula rasa.
The svelte flight attendant whispered to him...
"Mister Mac Arthur..."
He opened his eyes.
He has arrived.
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