401k enrollment, and a fever dream

There’s a part of this contract for this 401k that reads: “If you are working for us on the day that you die…” and my only thought was tick-tick-tock, and then a storybook opened… the ticking pocket watch by the girl’s bed gleamed brass and cold and the silk quilt felt like water and the entire bed plunged into the sea; half-capsized on salt and foam, and when it righted itself, with the bedposts as masts and the quilt as sails, the girl was gone. The storm-tossed watch fills with water and bursts, the tiny brass hands fly out of the book and back to the empty bedroom, where they clatter to the floor.

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