Fog

Grogginess.

The carpets. Threadbare.

The smell. Of sweat.

Mealtime. Like the burial of the dead.

Pills. All the time. Worse in here

than outside. Discussing everything.

Sympathetic, bespectacled faces.

Like learning how to speak again.

The drooling man. He smirks.

I think she came.

Or was it him?

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