Worries

I have these thoughts, and they run through my head so often it hurts sometimes. And I try to shake them off, take them to the back and shelf them up high so I can forget.

But they return, each instance worse than ever. It's like the more I try, the harder it hits.

So I gave up.

It's been three months since I saw Dr Fawkes, and I don't know if it's a good thing. He's been the only one who has managed to make the pain go away, but the price he asks for mounts and piles into astronomical proportions.

It was he who gave me the solution, and I have to return to have it fixed again.

He warned me that it will be even harder now that I've stopped treatment the last time. There was a hefty price but I'm prepared to pay for it.

The nurse collected from me before the procedure, and I parted with my money easily.

Anything to make the pain stop.

As the doctor spoke to me I could imagine his stern face looking at me. The operation lasted longer than expected, but Dr Fawkes assured me that all was fortunate and well.

There was the smell of surgical instruments and gauze and medication and tensed nerves as they surrounded me.

I felt a pair of trained hands reach behind my head, dislodging the clips that held my bandages tight.

A relief, and the tension eased from my skull. Round and round the wrappings went, each turn a revolution towards my penultimate state.

Three, two, one. I'm free.

They surrounded me, and I could sense the confusion.

The world was dark, covered in a layer of mist. The fog thickens and all I can do now is hear. As the voices came they slur and fall into a deep muffle.

There is no sight. There is no sound. I am happy.