Page 318 of Glass (Crank 2)

I rise

up out

of the

depths

into flat

pale light.

Where

am I?

Is it

morning

or night?

Why

are my

legs

sticky?

Sticky red.

Did

I hurt

myself

in sleep?

On purpose?

What

is wrong

with me?

My brain

is mud.

There

goes the Tilt

-A-

Whirl