~ Carl ~
White walls. Damn these white walls, in all their sterile coldness. The squeaky oxford sneakers, white coats, bright fluorescents. They’re all distracting me, keeping me from my love. From Abi.
“Abi!” I call to her, the white laminate tiles slippery under my bare feet. The janitor in a navy jumpsuit sneers coldly, pushing his filthy mop in my path, his sharp, jagged, grimy teeth bared. The floor tilts and I slide down the long hallway. It’s getting dimmer, more crowded… I have to elbow my way through a throng of brittle, elderly nurses in silly white hats. They smell of medicine, and I don’t think they can hear me. They’re blocking me on purpose. “No! I need to get to my wife! Abi!”
“Carl!” My mother spreads her arms, and there is no one else. She holds out her hand for me.
