Chapter 4
With his legs spread out, completely devastated and torn, Nathaniel sat in the white artificial leather armchair, and almost in a trance, counted the beeps of the respirator machine. 199-200-201… With glassy eyes, he stared in front of himself, feeling the invisible ballasts pulling his limbs towards the ground with a hundred weight, pressing him into the armchair, heavy beyond measure. Light-headed, he almost felt the imaginary ropes cutting deep into his flesh, causing him to bleed. These were the bonds to which he had surrendered willingly, and which by now had been rolled around his neck, squeezing his throat with more and more merciless power. He was suffocating.
The beeps kept going with stagnant predictability. 202-203-204… Exactly like the other life function monitoring
