daily writing

this may not make sense, but i have to catch the rhythm of my writing.


puddles lined the sidewalks, no dry place to step. the rain hadn't stopped for a week and all gutters overflowed with the stuff from below. walking in the street wasn't an option, since cars floated down an avenue or boulevard. but it didn't matter anyway. her clothes were soaked to the skin. at least the friction burns kept her from losing consciousness.

it seemed like only hours ago she was going to work. taking a subway into the city, then coming home afterwards. her husband welcomed her every day with open arms and that moment was her reason for everything.

things could have been worse. he might be dead, her too, but with the rain pummling down, she couldn't see how. for a moment, all vision blurred and she swayed from one foot to another. with a clenched fist, she caught a nearby wall and leaned hard into it. The cool stone felt good, it was stable. turning her back to it, slowly she slid down and closed her eyes.

they tell you to always try to stay alert, not to go to sleep, but what choice did she have. her watch displayed June 29th and she started on the 19th. the accident was only a few days behind her and the bleeding stopped, so she was okay. at least that's what she thought.

her vision blurred again and this time she retched, unable to hold the ground under her. it didn't matter, though, because the neverending rain washed it down the concrete and into the river of 40th street. for a moment she slept.

when she woke up, the room was bright and yellow. the color was easy on the eyes, but it seemed strange because it was so dry. around her, as a bed with guard rails, to prevent falling out and a rolling cart with food. she couldn't smell it, but steam rose from what looked like mashed potatoes and mushrooms. no one was in the room, but people passed the window that showed out into the hallway. She would guess it was a hospital, but everyone who passed wore yellow, to match her room.

One young man looked in when he noticed movement in the room. His brow furrowed and he walked in the opposite direction. A short time later, two women, accompanied by the young man walked through the door. As they approched, she blinked a few times, adjusting her sight. It seemed as if the two women's outfits changed color as they stepped through the door. The man remained in yellow, but the other two were in red.

"How are you feeling Miss," the one on the left inquired.

"I... i'm really sleepy," she replied.

"That's fine. We had to give you a little something for your head. But you're all better now." Would you like to eat some food?"

"Sure!" why did she sound like a little kid?

The young man rolled over the food cart and for the first time, she realized just how hungry she was. The two women moved aside and spoke about papers at the end of her bed. He came closer to her bed, and she noticed that the mash potatoes weren't steaming anymore. Her shoulders slumped as she was looking forward to a warm meal.

"Let's go, time to eat."

He pulled a stool next to the food cart and was ready to begin feeding her when she held up a small hand. The mashed potatoes shifted before her eyes, they were moving. small, translucent figures danced under grayish gravy. Her stomach turned as she looked to the mushrooms and found only slugs in their place.

"How do i eat that? They are bugs," her small voice was quiet in the large yellow room.

"They're good for you, please don't fuss," he said in a firm, but kind voice.

"You're not going to make me eat that!"

"You'll have to to feel better, miss. You wouldn't want to make him angry," one of the women chimed in.

"That's right, he would think we did a bad job of making you better," the young man continued.

The silent woman looked at the food, then to her. With a smile, she gestured to the food with an open hand. White, fluffy mounds filled the plate again and next to the mushrooms, a brownie was there for dessert.

It wouldn't be so bad to eat this, it looks like food now anyway and i'm so hungry she thought to herself....