If I lie here, perfectly still, I can feel myself sinking into the mattress & the sounds from the room below - shattered [bad word] & voice upon voice - exist. The walls surrounding me grow highter - pressing throbbing folding in on themselves. As I watch, blue veins coil themselves around. I lie inside an arch of scarlet moat that pulses a little every time : move. The sickness rises & I wait for it to pass.