Jane. One.
Jane lies on her right side, her right arm stretching under her pillow. She faces the wall, eyes open, waiting for the weight of her weary head to squash that arm's veins like a tornequet. Her mind dreams of chocoloate, cigarettes and morphine - a vice pressing heavy on her twitching elbow, trapping it between a poleyester pillow and bleached bedding upon a folding foam mattress.
When she rolls over in the morning at least her arm will have to be woken up from sleep.
The saline drip is inserted in her left arm. The needle sits on an awkward angle and gives the feeling that it and the snaking tubess that run from it are setting roots in her vein. She's growing into these drips and machines like she's being fitted into prosthetic clothing.
Jane often wonders: will her life always be invaded by an array of penetrating tentacles, or will she eventually adapt and gain control over the monsters humming in snores by her bedside? One day the drip will hang beneath her, and the transfusion of fluids will be reversed. She'll be rock-a-bye-baby atop the tallest tree, the tubes will feed ink and butterflies to the mushrooms and porcupines on the forest floor.
Jane's facing the wall, away from her blinking bedside furniture and the wash of fluorescent light flooding in through the open door.
It has been 3 days, it is 5.16am, and all but her right side is numb and at peace.
---------------------------------------------------
2. The floor carries the weight of the room..........
When she rolls over in the morning at least her arm will have to be woken up from sleep.
The saline drip is inserted in her left arm. The needle sits on an awkward angle and gives the feeling that it and the snaking tubess that run from it are setting roots in her vein. She's growing into these drips and machines like she's being fitted into prosthetic clothing.
Jane often wonders: will her life always be invaded by an array of penetrating tentacles, or will she eventually adapt and gain control over the monsters humming in snores by her bedside? One day the drip will hang beneath her, and the transfusion of fluids will be reversed. She'll be rock-a-bye-baby atop the tallest tree, the tubes will feed ink and butterflies to the mushrooms and porcupines on the forest floor.
Jane's facing the wall, away from her blinking bedside furniture and the wash of fluorescent light flooding in through the open door.
It has been 3 days, it is 5.16am, and all but her right side is numb and at peace.
---------------------------------------------------
2. The floor carries the weight of the room..........