Carl

contempt here. He tried to run, just as the door
was being opened by another nurse, but was
again waylaid and confronted by two male nurses
both pulling him back, to the point at which they
“…savagely”, pulled down his trousers from all
the squirming, he later commented. To be left
standing wearing just a shirt and a pair of white
underwear plus a confused furrow on his face
just as the door locked closed. “Why the hell am I
here? I demand to know.” Before he knew it a
needle was plunged into his buttocks and Carl
was placed into his vacant bed.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Sugar Plum Lips (Slyvia’s Poem)
As if lifted from a daze Carl awoke. There
was no natural light in the room as the room
housed no windows, just a door, and amongst
other means this meant he was unable to
recollect the time; as if in a different time space
continuum, he heard a deep staccato voice shout:
“Have some toast.” It’s the morning, he thought,
the morning dew here to bespoke certain
delights on a day that would best be used. The
deep staccato voice became closer and arrived to
his door, “You having some toast? And put these
on.” Pointing towards a gown. In disgust he
grabbed the gown and went to throw it on the
floor before Cecil held his hand out— “That’s not
to be thrown, that’s the Lord’s and the Lord
doesn’t like that.” The way in which Cecil held
his hand led to a threatening feeling that he only
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