Tests, more tests. Get me out of here!
A young doctor, pimply and onion-breathed, shone an intense white light into my eyes. “No response I’m afraid, amantadine doesn’t seem to have helped.”
Damn you! I can hear you, see you!
Matthew and Sarah stood nearby, exchanging glances, feigning concern.
“Coma varies considerably. In your brother’s case, I’m afraid there’s nothing else we can do.” The doctor hesitated. “It’s difficult I know, but after all these years, perhaps it’s time.” He coughed, embarrassed, under orders. “These are the forms.”
They murmured affirmation, faux distress etched on their faces.
Featured in the book, To Cut a Short Story Short: 111 Little Stories
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