this bed is too small. damn hospital bed in this country town. middle of nowhere. flies all over the ceiling, in the cracks of the windows. white walls. white sheets. white dress. wait... that wasn't here. i never saw that. all this white nauseates me. i'm undoubtably sick but these walls... oh God. will this be how i go? with no family to speak of? i forgot that after you see the world, you start from scratch. i met a few women- in dives, in bars. none would have me, i would have none. there was only one that came close, but i lived without her! do you see that? do you see? i was fine! lonely, maybe. my six feet of earth will be next to strangers. but its fitting; i find myself one. how did i get to this hospital? the water. the yellow house down by the water. they found me there. no, no they didn't.
i was fishing. i cast the lure into the water, let it bob. she had no such success. ellen damn near caught the back of her dress when she projected the lure behind her, behind her head. we are a picnic that day; we had the fish, grilled and gutted. she made us small cakes, even managed to bring iced teas. she had everything put together. 'cept me.
thats where they found me. i had tried to go fishing.
mind you, i wasn't trying to find her.
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