I am waiting for a hospital appointment. I have now been waiting for nearly three weeks and have heard nothing. It is a good thing that I am not expecting them to find what they are looking for, or I might well be beyond help before they found it. In fact, the longer the waiting goes on, the more likely they are to say they couldn’t actually find a brain at all, just a quivering lump of jelly, flolloping around in an empty skull and looking for a way out.
Because I do not fancy the thought of an hour stuffed down a wormhole with a pneumatic drill.
A wormhole is, of necessity, just big enough for the worm, with no room for manoeuvre. That’s bad enough. Knowing you will be strapped down and immobilised before they shove you in the thing, making any attempt at a hurried escape utterly…
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