The liquid morphine patched together vivid images.
The bevy of crickets outside sounded like a worn fan belt on the minivan from up the
road. Images from the ER lingered; the pain had floated away. This bout of
tonsillitis had been severe, but she got to keep them. One more, though, the doctor said, and out they go. This is
really unusual at your age. Callie was grateful to be home. The real
blended with the fantastical as the medicine deepened its hold. The veil between
spheres of existence thinned, revealing strange figures interacting in their
own worlds, unaware of her presence. Sounds of the neighborhood anchored her to
her own world. If only I’d remember these
visions later. A deep, healing sleep followed.
