Digressions of a Die-hard Fan

Fiction by | September 21, 2014

This makeshift hospital bed is anything but comfortable. The foam is barely half an inch thick. I can feel the cold of the metal springs underneath it; they’re making my back go numb.

I scan the room for something pleasant to divert my attention to. Attached to the ceiling is a flashbulb that’s emitting this seizure-inducing orange light. All the walls have to offer are thin cracks that, if you look long enough without blinking as I’m doing now, seem to be interconnected. They look like the red veins that decorate a peeled balut.

That reminds me, I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday. Fasting for a whole twenty four hours is supposed to be integral to a successful operation. I tried to compensate by drinking lots of water but my body’s just not used to this sort of deprivation. I’m craving for rice. Any ulam would do. I just really miss stuffing my mouth with spoonfuls of rice.

I let out a sigh.

So much for a pleasant diversion.

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