Books written by Ray Sullivan

Wednesday, 21 November 2012

Parallel Lives Chapter 22

John Staples’ recollections for that weekend were vague, confusing assortments of medical comings and goings, needles and drips, white clinical sheets and firm but musty smelling pillows. He had been aware of travelling further than expected, but the heat of the car and the rhythmic pound of the three litre engine had conspired with the sedative to weigh his thoughts into a dark, comfortable marshmallow-like sensation. The fracas at the main gate had passed him by, although he would later remember being manhandled and dragged out into a cold, still evening. For some time he assumed that it had been a dream, or even one of his experiences. Saturday passed as though on fast forward and slow motion combined, Sunday never existed. John spoke clearly for the first time on Monday, suddenly aware of lying on a trolley, a cool draught raking his legs as they forged onwards, the mists of the weekend parting as the drugs were permitted to eke away, his consciousness being allowed to re-assert itself. The voices of the medical orderlies and the purpose of their errand slowly filtering into his thoughts, dominating and shaping his priorities.
‘MRI? Why do I need an MRI?’


Copyright Ray Sullivan 2011

The characters, places and events described in this novel are fictitious and any resemblance to persons, places or events, past or present, is coincidence.  All rights reserved

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