I remember the ceiling tiles more clearly than I remember the days. They were off-white, faintly stained at the edges, arranged in a pattern that seemed orderly at first but quickly became maddening when you stared too long. I counted them over and over again, tracing imaginary lines between the corners, convincing myself that if I could find some hidden symmetry, something in my situation might make sense too. Fifteen days. That’s how long I stayed in the hospital. At least, that’s what they told me. Time had a strange way of slipping through my fingers there. Daylight filtered in...
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