Mel? ...
Mel? ...
Mel! ...
An oozing ray of light
shone down on her
delicate,
worn out face.
Perspired skin and
blood stained
finger nails exposed.
Her eyes, bruised
and dreary,
withdrew from the light
and peered open
at the sound of her name.
Mel? ...
Through her blurry vision
she could see
that the room was
dark.
The only thing
illuminated
was a cold, steel table
which she sat at in a chair
of the same character as
the table.
She breathed in heavily
and shrugged her shoulders
but they were held back short
by what she saw to be
restraints.
She wiggled her fingers;
they tingled.
Within the light sat a man
across the table.
He was dressed formally
but with minor flaws that
made it clear he was as
uncomfortable as she.
With sleeves rolled up and
a loose tie, and his jacket
hanging on the back of his chair.
He was staring at her with
piercing
but tired eyes.
And they could now both
clearly see each other's face
as she came around from
exhaustion,
wearily sitting up in the chair.
Mel?
Do you know where you are, Mel?
Do you know why you're here?
