The sonographer hunts for things that could kill me, her wand wheezing like wind in a cave until she squeezes my calf and a heartbeat leaps on-screen.
Vessels vibrate beneath the heat of a device running down my thighs. To pass time, I make the alphabet a game.
I multiply tiles massing the ceiling then return, finally, to the papered wall whose twiggy whisps race toward some unseen spring.
Their knobby ends clotted with little red knots that burst one by one into view.
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