Tuesday’s tale, 9/29/2015.


Alright, I’m alive. Time to just get right to it. Five minutes on the clock:

The time passed in a blur. It seemed the standard procedure for heavy metal poisoning was to poison you more. He actually felt more sick as things progressed, and couldn’t tell if it was from the poison itself or the treatment.

He was quite positive that he was delirious, but he couldn’t prove it. He kept seeing something just at the edge of his vision, and always behind him. Even when he managed to drag himself in the corner of the room, it stayed so.

He caught nothing more than snatches of conversation, and he wasn’t sure if they were real or manufactured.

“….he’s not getting any better; what’s going on?”

“This isn’t any poison I’ve ever seen. The properties….”

Well, that was worrying, for whoever they were talking about.

The doc needed to stop playing with the air conditioning; it was hot and cold by turns, and the switch seemed to happen in seconds. Even when the doc did something to the IV in his arm, which somehow had managed to stay in when he moved, he floated above it all, conscious.

Well, mostly conscious.

There we go, that’s it for today! Time is four minutes, 24 seconds. See you next time!


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