Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #16 July 2015 | Page 27

Happily
Ever After

anchored to our two beings, the conscious and unconscious.
Somehow, without noticing, I’d drifted, I was
now by the door of the small room. Outside there was
a dull corridor, this was definitely a hospital then,
there was an aide polishing the floor with the machine I’d heard, thrumming its way along the corridor,
coming slowly towards my room. Beside the door
was a trolley of notes, thick cardboard files holding
information on the lives of all the people in the beds.
There was an exhausted young doctor leaning over an
open volume, rubbing her temple as she puzzled her
way through yet another case. Nurses sat at the station,
there was other staff walking swiftly from one place
to another, patients in every bed, everybody looked
stressed and busy which explained why no one had
come into my room.

Jackie Pitchford
My eyes refused to open, I could hear strange,
annoying sounds, some kind of machine in the distance, humming and vibrating was getting closer.
There was a rumble of voices, a murmur, then someone laughing. A rustle of paper and the dull thud as
if something heavy was being dropped. There was a
sharp smell mixed with dusty undertones. I wanted to
see what was happening, these sharp scents weren’t
mine, This place wasn’t anywhere I knew.
My head sank into the pillow, or maybe
pressed would be a better description, there was very
little depth to the hard lump under my head, the mattress felt thin too and it crinkled. Only a light weight
cover lay over me, far too thin, so I guessed I was in
hospital. What I was doing there was anybody’s guess.
I tried to remember but the constant hum of activity distracted me, footsteps scurried and hurried by,
then there came a hesitant slither, it came closer and
passed, I must admit I was rather glad about that, but
I did want someone to come over. I wanted to ask so
many questions and my own head held no answers. I
knew if I could just open my eyes, move my body, I’d
be fine, but nothing was cooperating.
Sounds dimmed, sleep descended, there wasn’t
the usual drift into nothingness, instead things got
brighter. I felt myself lift up, not physically, but a sudden, ripping sensation, like sweaty legs on leather, an
almost reluctant, sticky separation. As sight returned
I realised I was hovering above my poor, pale shell of
a body. Boy, did I really look like that? There’s something distinctly spooky about seeing yourself asleep,
eyes shut, slack faced, it’s not the prettiest of views.
Which is when I spotted a silver cord drifting between
my body and whatever I was, I tried to touch it but
it was less than smoke, insubstantial but persistently

Now what? What was I supposed to do? I
looked at my body