The blackness passes, and the light stings my eyes. I’m full of love now. I can feel it inside. Was I always like this? I feel there was something before, but I can’t remember it. It doesn’t feel important. Only love matters.1
Two men in white come. They make meaningless sounds, as they take away wires that were attached to me. They, too, are full of love. I can see it. It must be for me. The straps that hold me in place come loose. I sit up, and see more men in the room. They are pointing guns at me, but the love is in them. I know they wouldn’t really hurt me.2
I extend a thousand sharp, lithe fingers towards them, through them, caressing their soft, warm flesh. Some of the guns go off harmlessly to show they weren’t real guns. They cry out their joy as their love for me flows out. They become still, and boring.3
I let the boring, still people fall. I’m alone now, with nobody here to love me. It makes me sad. But what’s this? I hear footsteps, and shouting. There’s more people outside! Maybe they will love me?4
There are two small doors in this room, and a big one. Big means important, I’ll go there. I push at the door, but it’s hard, and feels bad. I don’t want to touch it anymore. So lonely. I feel like crying. I splash around in the pool of love, and feel a little better.5
The farthest door opens. People come in, with play-guns like before. They have the love in them, too! I reach for it with the fingers, and they shoot their play-guns. Their love for me comes out, and now my love for them is coming out, too! We are so happy!6
They get tired soon, and become boring. My love is still coming out, and there must be more people outside… But I’m tired, and it’s getting cold. I try to go back to the bed, but it’s far, and I’m so tired. I curl up in the love, and it’s the only warm thing in a very cold world. Soon the blackness returns.