markmywords85

Paul staggered out into the early morning fog like a drunkard. He hunched into the raised lapels of this too-thin jacket and  wandered away from the hotel, disoriented, shivering--panic gnawing at his gut like a cannibal.  "I need help," he thought, "but where?"  The nearest hospital was the obvious answer, but the thought of what the doctors would do filled his mind with images of hospital beds with straps, extended isolation with no answers and needles piercing his flesh. The mass on his thigh was growing--that was certain.  Paul could feel it writhing and pushing against his flesh as he walked.