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Chapter 99: Moby

The lights are bright, so fucking white they're blinding. My head is pounding but for the first time in months, I don't feel pain-my hips, my knees, my arms, none of them hurt. Turning my head to the side, I attempt to peek through my lids. Next to me sits my wife balled up in a plastic chair, her head resting on her folded arm. She looks miserably uncomfortable, and she's not wearing the clothes she had on this morning.

I don't wake her or call for the nurse. Sleep lures me back into the veil of darkness where I'm comfortably numb.

"He's moved around some, but I don't think he's woken up." Piper's voice is still that of an angel no matter how many times I hear it.