#7 DayWriting Day5

  Day5   17/05/2018  

Through the haze of fog things didn't look the same, uncrumpling the paper he struggled to look, the writing was familiar...but he wasn't, his mind searched for the context of his thoughts...there were none. Laying back, his head against the pillow..a tear gently rolled, there were days he knew the world was clear, remembered names on his scrabble board, facts and figures with ease, those days were best, conversation flowed, he felt like his old self...but, when the fog descended he became locked...it was cold, the dark void that shrouded him, left him scared, lonely and frightened, this was surely not it.

The clock on the wall chimed, it was 2.30pm, why did the afternoon drag so...looking around, this was a space...it was quiet, watching his friends from a distance, they seemed to be playing some sort of game, exercises he thought...I don't have that energy.

From along the corridor a familiar sound arose, one that signalled time...right on cue the trolley came, which one today, he knew them all by colour, and in descending   order, 3 pink, 4 blue, 2 white, 1 yellow. There was only one thing sure, at 2.30 he knew it was time for his medication, other than that the day was like any other. Nothing different helped his day, it was tough when the fog came.