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Show 22 Another clatter of laughter and I realize that the covey of nurses at the end of the hall is entrenched for some time to come. I force my eyes away from Recently Deceased's blue robe and try to remember another blue, a much more pleasant one. Greece. The blue of the iridescent Mediterranean. Night fishing in the blue rowboat. The rusted lantern suspended from the bow casting its arch of white light into the depths; oiled pebbled tossed from smiling Yanni's hand to calm the water; orange, pink, and brown aquatic life below. "We've got it!" yells Yanni, exuberant, octopus dangling helplessly at the end of his spear. We will eat it barbecued. But now I only empathize with the pain of the spear. I look over to the door. Recently Deceased remains, I think. Ha! That's funny. Recently Deceased remains. I am trying to joke myself out of pain. But I cannot even laugh at my own bad pun. There is no extra breath. So I watch my breath. In and out. Like childbirth, times four, one for each of my children. Childbirth and yoga. Renewing creation and renewing body. In and out. Options no more for poor Recently Deceased. In and out. It is too much. I cannot move. I cannot yell. I hurt at number nine on their pain scale often. No one is coming to help me. And there is a dead body parked in front of my door. |