Eleven years later he was running on a treadmill, his heart exploding and imploding as sweat tumbled from his brow. He thought how funny it was that he’d been running for so long and still hadn’t gotten anywhere as he looked up to the mounted flatscreen and noticed the ticker crawled names instead of stories. He’d forgotten what today was. His breath caught in his chest as he saw his name pass across the screen like a hearse through a halted intersection. He stopped the treadmill and collapsed in tears, mourning all those that had died with him that day.