Spectacles, Testicles, Wallet & Watch
The room was shrouded in an institutional lime green. Scant light shone through the small window, highlighting the cracks between the cinder blocks. It was just before dawn and time seemed frozen in an odd gray half-light. On the wall a multitude of tubes and cables protruded, snaking their way down the headboard. In this space, time was not measured by the tick of the clock. That would have been too regular, too exact, too sure. Here, time was measured by the torturous flow of dripping saline and the uneven skip of a heartbeat and each moment was an epoch of unrelenting agony.
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