Page 116 of September Rain

I get it now: Good. Bye.

Three.

"We didn't make it after all-"

57

-Angel

I'm a stone.

I have been thrown. I plopped into the water and am sinking to the bottom.

A great river thrashes around me.

Fish float belly up along the surface of the murky damp.

Its cold, but I don't shiver.

Then hot, but I don't burn.

I wait for the water to lift me, to sweep me from this place on its' current.

58

-Angel

I'm awake.

I'm awake?

Shit.

There is a gigantic pulsing pain streaking from my forehead to my neck.

Shitty shit!

And the doctor is convinced I need to see it.

After a cursory glance at the enormous knot protruding over my right eye, I drop the handle of the mirror.

He rattles on about my "intraparenchymal hemorrhage with contusions." Or some idiot crap like that.

I could not care less if I wanted to.

It's useless.

I'm useless.

A complete failure.

Shit. Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

Shitty-shit.

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