sick

July 26, 2009 at 12:23 pm (prose)

Stillness. Keeping still was important. Any move reminded him of the reason why he lay. Not that a reminder was necessary, the idle thoughts circulating through his head did little else but whisper taunts. That it wasn’t that bad. That it was just an excuse not to do anything else. That he was weak. Movement kept the thoughts away but it also hurt. So he just lay there, slowly going numb, listening to the insults from within.

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