Heart monitor beeps.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Like machine guns in slow motion.
Needles, wires, and tubes fray out of you, like you're some kind of circuit needing to be fixed.
Rubbing alcohol burns my nostrils.
I turn the corners of my mouth in disgust.
Scotch tape sticks out like a sore thumb on the bleach white walls.
A yin and yang of life and death hang over your head.
But the flowers are wilting.
The crinkled balloons are deflated.
And you are gone.
YOU ARE READING
Random Shorts
RandomIf you want to see a sample of what my writing is like, you've come to the right place. THIS IS NOT A STORY. that means that there is NO ORDER to the chapter/page thingies.
