The Verge is a WIP
The black sea of stars encompassing me creases itself into a fold as “Casual Affair” by Panic at the Disco faintly fogs through the back of my mind. Below me a train trails heavy, fluffy clouds as it moves in tempo and through a tunnel out of mind. Pa ta pa ta pa tum pa ta pa ta pa tum …. Around me two bands of rings move within and in opposition to one another like the Stargate. … I awkwardly in fits and starts pull myself up through the mud to a sitting position, opening my eyes to the dizziness of multiplicities of fluorescent and natural lights of bulb and large solid picture window. The nurse slips something heavier than a bracelet on my wrist, and somehow, eyes closed, I hold myself and my arm still until he slips it off again. I ask, “What is it?” wondering about my blood pressure.