Dirty Laundry

2 Jun

Karen J. Mossman

by Toni Kief

Like a forgotten man on death row, each day is spent waiting for the inevitable. No longer counting hours, days or months, my existence is trapped in a starless night.  Strange women awaken me each morning for no other reason than to gather dirty laundry.  They roll me, medicate me and pump all my meals through a tube. I have no purpose, no direction, no hope and few dreams, just the passage of time.  All of my control has been relinquished; I can no longer sit, and I don’t recognize my hands in the futile attempt to wipe a tear.  My survival depends on the labor of others; I have no power to stop this ridiculous dance.  No longer blessed with the luxury of movement and conversation, I scream to unhearing ears.  Each hour I’m further separated from who I thought was me.   All my secrets stripped…

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