Laurels Literary Magazine Spring 2015 | Page 72

hallway of the hospital. My wife is next to me. A doctor tells us our My wife and I hold each other. We cry for our son. We go into his back and forth. “Good morning,” I say. “You need me to do anything.” If he wants, he can go faster than me. We stop. I can barely breathe. I sit on a bench with him in front of me, rolling back and R are gone. The sky is bright. The sun shines into my room, bathing My son is racing towards it with others in wheelchairs right behind like a cannon on my chest. I press the call button. The nurse comes “I can hardly breathe.” She tells me I nearly died earlier. That I passed out and it looked like I was going to pass. She tells me I stabilized. She checks my chest. I have a collapsed lung. She asks if I want it to be [61]