I lay in this white room. The tube that sticks in me feeds me. Another collects my wastes. Another gives me water. Occasionally people visit me, one of them visits me more often than the rest. He's so familiar. He's . . . Close but so far.
Today he brought a child with him. The child seems. . . I can't tell, he seems mature I think.
Hey Ma, I brought today. Can you see him? Ma, can you hear me?
The man seems choked up, at least he sounds it. He's amidst a visual fog in my eyes. Amidst the bright white their figures come closer.
My son. The older man is my son. Oh I knew you wouldn't forget me. But who is with him? Is that his son? He must be so sweet. . .
I lose focus for a bit. I come to with my son holding my hand, I try to squeeze it, but I'm too weak. I'm too weak. The man beckons his son over to hold my hand. Oh don't make him do that, he seems scared. He's scared.
I'm scared.
