She's freezing, her clothes are wet. The cold leaves its mark on her as she shivers. She looks around the pool she just swam out of. Empty. The usually crowded pool is devoid of people. The room itself has an eerie quality to it and everything feels unreal. Her head moves upward and it hurts.

It feels so heavy, her eyes feel

so drowsy. And her body...it aches. There's also a stuffy feeling brewing in her head which makes her ears feel plugged. She looks at the row of windows which showcase the starless night sky. And the moon looks at her as if it knows all of her secrets. She finds herself wishing it would tell them to her because all of her mind is a blur.

It's dark but the lights in the pool are shining. It's her only guide out of here. She doesn't remember how she got here. She doesn't remember the past few days at all. Her nose starts to bleed like it does whenever the air is too dry but then she realizes that's not the only part of her bleeding. Lifting her hand to cover her nose, she notices marks on her arm that look like zig-zag slashes. Was she in a fight?

She takes off her wet shirt, using it to wrap her arm. Once she's sure it's secure, she walks. Her feet are bare. Heavy like her head. Her wet clothes leave a soggy trail wherever she moves. Finally, she reaches an exit of the building and is in an alleyway. She hears someone coughing, a homeless man who she's spoken to before. His name is Morris and there was a time he was a train conductor. He lived in his glory days often but those days were so far gone. She wonders for a horrifying moment if her days were also gone. Isn't it funny how when things feel finite time feels numbered? She thinks about tomorrow but her minutes feel fleeting. Has she done anything impactful? Will anyone remember her laugh? These are the things she thinks of as she looks at Morris as if he’s a mirage. She pictures him as he once was. A fancy hat with his railroad company on it instead of the dirty beanie on his head. She imagines him wearing suspenders like conductors of old instead of a shirt full of holes. But then reality comes into play and she sees a broken man sitting on a cardboard box. He's half-asleep using another flattened box to cover himself with. She keeps meaning to buy him a blanket but she always forgets.

“Do you--” she starts but becomes wobbly.

The homeless man jolts out of his half-asleep state, bolting towards her and helping to keep her steady.

“You alright there Ms. Blake?” he asks, his eyebrows drawing together.

She tries to answer but her mind is an arid wasteland where no thoughts could flourish. Finally, she finds something to say.

“Yeah, Morris, I’m--” She never finishes her sentence.

Her eyes close. Her body drops and she becomes lifeless in Morris’s arms.