Flash fiction
Silence
The emergence of light met her eyes through a narrow opening. Rebecca instinctively tried to avoid that strange, intrusive feeling that light can make at the first glimpse of it — when the day starts.
Day
What day was it? She didn’t even remember having gone to bed. She searched her mind for anything more profound than white noise. Her eyes trained on the white of the ceiling, far away.
Yellow
Stretching an imagined muscle, then another, she didn’t experience the familiar satisfaction of it. She didn’t feel anything. No response. Still waking up. Now, a hazy yellow wall appeared where the ceiling ended.
Sound
Hissing, clicking. It was calming, a connection. The sounds followed her breath. Rebecca was one with the sounds. Odd. As if she was breathing the sounds. And nice. She wanted to sleep again. Eyes closed.
Touch
Something touched her cheek. A fly. Or was it a fly? Half asleep, she tried to raise a hand to wave it off, but the hand didn’t respond. Another touch. Not a fly, bigger. Her eyes strained to find a narrow opening again.
Adrenalin
“We have a movement!” Footsteps, talking, more touching, pushing her, holding her. A sharp prick in her shoulder. The light changed, moved — it was people, in white, a man with a clipboard, a woman holding a syringe. Tubes hung over her, a bag with liquid. Wanted to touch it — this time the hand responded and moved a bit.
Alive
“She is back! She’s awake!” The nurse looked her in the eyes, smiled. “Welcome back!”
Image by the author, created by the help of generative AI, specially for this story. The story itself, however, is not by an AI – it is purely human.
