The room is bright even with the lights off. The clinical atmosphere, the crisp white sheets, and it’s as though I’ve been doomed to find myself in a hospital bed ever since I took off with Dwight dressed in a hospital gown.
I lie flat on my back, my eyes drawn to the blue that is the sky, visible through the plain rectangle of window, blue sky that means daylight and busyness in the streets as people go about their routines. Inside this institution of healing, I exist on another planet, one that manifested in me when I was inside the mortuary drawer, becoming full blown on the stage at Hot Foxies. I’m disconnected from every single thing that is normal and ordinary and every day. Even my own hands appear strange when I observe them.
I figure I have spent one night in this hospital and i
