23
Back at the Clinic
The next morning, I was surprised when Samuel came to get me from my restful dreams. “George, wake up George, it’s time for us to go to work.”
“Mmm,” I said. I had managed to flip myself over and bury my face in my pillow. “What do you mean? I have a bad hand.”
“Nonsense,” Samuel countered, “you are able enough to go to work, so off to work you are going to go. Do not worry, I will get you up, washed and dressed.”
I felt myself getting up. It still felt like I was in a hotel room. There was a snap on the side of my head and the hotel evaporated, blue dots swirling in my vision, pushing out the blackness as Samuel came into view in mobile mode. He’d gotten me up without waiting for me to ask him. Not that it mattered. He’d have done it sooner or later. I was off t
