Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Entry 7


Outside the state hospital, the dead gathered.  They peered up at my caged window even when I chose not to look out.
“Tomlinson, Francis?”
I nodded and continued lacing my boots.
“Here are the medications the doctor ordered.  Now please remember to take them everyday so we don’t have another episode.  Ok?”
“Yes, I will.”  No, I won’t.
She ran a scanner over my wrist.  It beeped, confirming I was one of the watched.  Not everyone had chips in them, just a lucky few.
“This is your sixth time here, young lady.  How about we try not to make it a seventh?  You’re running out of chances to obey the directive.  Surgery is next.”
“But I like it here.”
The lanky woman handed me a paper bag of the possessions I’d had three days ago when the police dropped me off.  The carton of orange juice was ruined and all the items in my wallet had been removed and carefully put back.
“I’m sure you don’t.  The hallucinations should all be gone.  If you continue to take your medications you won’t be bothered by them again and neither will anyone else.  Do you understand?” 

I did, but it changed nothing.


  1. See comment under finalist. Best of luck.

  2. Thank you very much. I'm in the rewrite phase of this novel at the moment. Hopefully the rest will read as smooth as these first 200.

  3. I guess that means when you win your B&N card, you'll have to buy my book--oh wait, it's not published. Grrrr.


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