Absquatulate Morning

Poem

Odd sounds punctuate a steady background hum

Indistinct forms around me moving in fog

Grainy gray art deco-styled halls appear as I wheel about

Wheeled…I realize I am not commanding my limbs

Frozen…unable to move yet moving

 

Strange smells permeate the air

I want to sneeze but can’t…quite…

Something delicate brushes my waist

Fear…grips me as I realize straps bind

Panic…as the gurney stops

 

Wincing pain in my left arm

As the needle punctures its target

A voiceless silent scream that no one living hears

6:45…my eyes open

Jack and Jill…notice that I am awake and run for their feline bowls

 

I snap on the light

Clear my groggy head as best I can

And drag weary legs to the floor

Staring…at the sheet

Realizing…there’s a spot of blood where my arm had lain

 

The End

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