White Space

I wake up. Where am I? The stringently white walls and the sterile hum of nurses and machines tips me off. I am in a hospital. I struggle to prop myself up, but a gloved hand pushes me down.

“Please don’t move, sir, we’re monitoring your vitals.”

The glove releases my shoulder and jumps back to scrawling notes on a yellow legal pad.

“He’s conscious,” a nurse says.

I snort, but can’t because of the tubes, so I hack and choke instead.

She looks at me. I look back. She looks away.

I close my eyes and sink back into--