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Locked In

There are 130 ceiling tiles in this room. 13 rows of ten. One looks like it might collapse at any minute. It’s barely hanging in there.

I love you, you know. I wish I could express it better. You were there for me when the others stopped visiting. My family. My friends. You stuck with me. 11 years together since the accident, Paralyzed but not quite comatose. Just me, you, and 130 ceiling tiles. Have you noticed how many there are? Or are you too busy tending to me?

If three strained blinks could say I love you...






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