It was a part that wanted to live. It wanted to live more than anything else at that moment. How could it live when time paradoxically sped up? The ...ook of glee had barely crossed his face before it seemed like his arms were drawing close to grab her. She knew if those hands touched her she would join the living dead. Those who were dead regardless of what actions they took. And thus she struggled, the only inalienable right she had left. Yet, it wasn’t enough. It never is. She threw herself. Every generation had some silliness going on—bathtub gin, hallucinogenic drugs, pyramid schemes—why not hers? This was off the charts, though. She had lost her job, and she was bedded down most of the days on a saggy old mattress using her health problem as a reason to atrophy mentally and physically. I had known that this chronic illness was going to be bad, and it was, but this was not really about illness of the body. It was mental and spiritual illness. Scanning her house was horrifying.. She'd have a fit," he stammered. He was pretending not to be too interested, but I could see him swallow and lick his lips nervously."Aww Daddd -- She won't be home until later," I pleaded, then purposely added, "She doesn't have to know anything."I saw something in his eyes I'd never seen before. "Umm, okay, baby, but make sure it's back on before she comes home."I sat up on the side of the lounge. I acted as if I didn't even consider his presence as I undid the strings. When I removed my. ”“Then what about the office? What about Dean, Michael and Avery?” he asks rapidly. “What about the blood?”“All part of the illusion,” she sighs. “The office I set up because the doctor said it would help. He said you had to relive your memory until it resolved. Everything else is in your head. You imagine all of it.”“It feels real,” he says defiantly. “I think I’d know if I had lost six months of my life.”“Fuck, Daniel,” she fires off angrily, “you had a nervous breakdown.”“And what about your.