Autonomous Press is now taking pre-orders for The Spoon Knife Anthology, as well as Barking Sycamores, Year One and Imaginary Friends. Order at www.autpress.com. (See the latest issue of Barking Sycamores online at barkingsycamores.wordpress.com.)
Each day here feels worse. I wonder if I'll ever get out of here. The sense of Other is tangible, like a film that covers every surface with a greasy dust. Of course, there is also real, non-metaphorical, greasy dust. I wish I had some Pine Sol and a scrub brush. I know I'm still in the same hospital, but on this floor everything is different. If I wasn't terrified, I'd be joking about how One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest this place is. Not that there's anyone to joke with. No one's visited since I was moved. Not even my mother.
The Turtle Man stops by the ward but doesn't speak with me. I can't tell if that bodes well or not.