One Blink for Yes
Two thousand, six hundred and forty-eight days. That’s how long I’ve been here, lambskin under my ass, tubes in my trachea and stomach. Numb everywhere except part of my face. The only things I move are my eyes. I must have the most muscular eyes on earth. The door to my room opens onto one end of the nurses’ station. I live in Canwell House, a division of Truman General that spans several city blocks. Canwell is a nursing home for hopeless cases, of which I, Charlie Jack, am one. Nurse Rosa Matuda walks in, checks my stomach tube, then hooks in my...
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