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Broken Hammers - Ch11Tuesday, September 28th, 2047
It hurt too much to open his eyes, so he kept them shut. His brain got to work on counting each part of his body that hurt. Ribs. Shoulder. Face. Especially the back of his head. His chest. Yes, that was about it.
His mouth felt like it was coated in wax. He didn't want to open it, but he was so thirsty and his throat ached. He wished he knew what time it was. It seemed dark in the room- wait, where the fuck was he?!
Dakota forced his eyes to open. He was staring up at the ceiling of what. He shifted- his head felt heavy, and a soft groan escaped him as he reached up a hand to feel at his face, at his eyes.
Ow. He winced, feeling the swelling beneath one eye- awesome, another shiner. Probably two of them. He moaned again, this time not really out of pain but out of the need for re-assurance that he could still make noise.
He looked down at his other arm. His real one. An IV needle was emerging from it- oh, thank God. Tesla to the rescue. Now ta
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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