NINETY-SIX

Dreams

Lolita woke up again, this time more refreshing than the others. The oxygen mask was thankfully out of her mouth. Her arm was still stiff, but at least she’d had a nice change of clothes and bandage. Her leg was on a cast above her bed, but the nurse who’d shown up the previous night promised that she’d start physical therapy as soon as possible. Lolita didn’t mind. She really didn’t need her legs; she wanted to remain in this bed for as long as possible, staring at the unstained room. She liked the emptiness it denoted. She felt seen, even if it was by an inanimate object.

Her family showed up more frequently than she would have liked. Her mother sometimes slept with her and held her hands. Lolita didn’t like it. It made her hand sweaty and twitchy. She would have loved to draw it away without waking her mother, who would in turn alarm the whole hospital. She just wanted to be left alone.

Samantha never showed up. She began to seek her out in her dreams, but they were so