I'm still here in Omaha. We're still here in Omaha. She's still here. In the hospital. There have been complications from the surgery. Her digestive system doesn't seem to be working just yet. I feel like I am outside of time and space. There is just this hospital, and a hotel. There is just pain, and waiting. There is just darkness, and cold. There is just fear, and that annoying Hope that makes us keep going.
When I'm done with this, when she's done with this, when it's Over, I'll tell you about my time here. I'll tell you about the Stocky Blonde People, the grey clouds shrouding the Missouri River, the Norman Rockwell houses, about Mr. Rogers' tennis shoes and Lady Elaine's nose. But now is not that time.