Into the Light

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"In the misfortunes of our best friends we always find something not altogether displeasing to us." Francois de La Rochefoucald

In the city of windows, the sun trumpets a glorious day and the strumpets who walked the streets with now cashless Johns return to rest for the next night's prostitution. Taxis find their marks and limousines wait for their masters' beckoning as traders of the day willfully barter away their souls for a tip of the iceberg. Landlords examine their property while the coyotes bay in the museum of natural history. Another cycle in the city of windows just like the day before grinds away. A news report comes blaring out of Blake's alarm.

His eyes do not seem to open as he rises up to look at his window.

"Shit, what the?"

He stares at his fingers the size of pickles. Blake staggers to the bathroom, turns the faucet, and cleanses the thick goop from his puffy eyes.

After a minute of trembling and splashing water on his warm face, he is able to see. Pit eyes look back. An over-pumped plump balloon from the Thanksgiving Day parade replaced his face. He knows he must go to the emergency room.

Blake exits his apartment but the universe spins and hits him to the hallway floor that smells of dried urine. Unable to move, his sinuses fill with fluid. His eyes cloud and a gray outline, child sized, approaches in broken fits of motion. Blake sees a smooth white mask with glowing orb eyes hovering just above his nose. Echoes of voices are heard and all goes pitch black.

In curtained off ER bed, Blake comes to consciousness and feels his hand being squeezed. He recognizes Ms. Braque to his side. The scream of child getting stitches in the next bed over overtakes the background noise of the emergency room.

"What happened?" he asks and his eyes flutter.

The darkness calls him back and Blake sleeps.

In a semi-private room, he awakes a couple hours later. Blake hears the hacking cough the man in the bed to his right and turns to look. A curtain that runs from wall to the foot of his bed blocks off the other patient. A monitor beeping his vitals signs sits on a stand next to an I.V. tree placed by the bedside. Through the open door to the right, the groans of the infirmed roll over him from the hall. The smell antiseptic burns his eyes and nostrils as the room fills with light.

Blake realizes he's in a hospital and a nurse with almond eyes enters. She slides her hand on the bed's safety railing and examines him like meat.

"How are you Mr. Moxley?" she asks and thinks I bet he's attractive when he's not all swollen like this.

"Confused and puffy," Blake says.

"Puffy. Yes, you are puffy," she says and thinks I bet he has a large cock, maybe I'll check later.

"Can I have some water?" Blake asks.

"There a pitcher on the chest next to the bed when you clear up a bit more," the nurse says and gives Blake a wink.

A lean female doctor, in a bit of disarray with her hair back in a loose ponytail, arrives with her lab white lab coat riding her shoulder. With predatory eyes, she investigates Blake and thinks she recognizes him but dismisses the thought.

"Mr. Moxley you had a nasty allergic reaction. Good thing the E.M.T.'s found you on the street and got you here. We are going to keep you for observation overnight and most likely release you tomorrow. In the meantime, we are going to give you more anti-histamines. It will make you sleepy. So try to rest," she says and drifts away into the light of the doorway. He thinks I like the doctor, she looks like a cup of mocha ice cream. She's TV pretty.