Jim
Day in and day out, he would be posted within to make sure nothing would go awry. This is where he would eat, work, and live for 24 hours a day.
Funny as it sounds—especially considering the amounts of drugs I’ve been proud to consume—those pills, like dots, raised & particular, look more and more like some kind of secret Braille spelling out the end of my life. Perhaps if I had insurance; if one hundred and seventy-five dollars meant I was twenty—five over my deductible, I’d think differently. But it’s not and so I don’t. As far as I can see, there’s no place for me in this country’s system of health, and even if there were I’m not sure it would make a difference. Something I considered over and over again while I was sitting in that stark office, barely looking at the National Geographic or People magazines, just waiting on the bustle of procedure and paper work, until the time came, quite a bit of time too, when I had to answer a call, a call made by a nurse, who led me down a hail and then another hall and still another hail, until I found myself alone in a cramped sour smelling room, where I waited again, this time on a sl…
It's green
It's blue
It's red
It's dry
It's wet
It's cold