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The Memory of That Day Is Corrupted
"For some reason, the memory of that day is corrupted. Like the data, I don't know how to describe it," he says. "I remember only seeing white, God, it was about the size of my eldest daughter's shoes." The shoe had a moss and just dirt and waterlogged, smelled bad. It fell and stayed together but didn't smell. They'd only smell like wet leaves. This totally changed things for me, but I'll go, okay?"