The IVs in Brian’s arms looked like snakes to him. He was slowly coming back to life, quietly waking up and taking his time, after a three-day coma. He didn’t know any of this, of course. He just stared at the snakes that were coming in and out of his arm and wondered why he didn’t feel any pain, and what they were doing there.

He blinked his eyes and saw that the snakes were indeed IVs bringing fluid into his body. He tried to shift his posture and found that he was in a hospital gown in a bed - and that he couldn’t move. He tried to shuffle his feet from side to side, shake his arm, but nothing. The will was there, but the movement wasn’t. His heart slithered around in his chest, and he swallowed.

A nurse rushed into the room to take his vitals. “Where am I?” He asked her, but she ignored him, calling in a doctor. The doctor ignored him too, probing him with tools as if he were a science experiment. He asked again, but again received no reply.

“Shut the TV off,” the nurse shouted to an assistant. He hadn’t even noticed it was on. He glanced up to see footage of a seven car pile-up caused by a drunk driver, the aftermath still closing down highways. He saw his name listed as the driver, saw his photo, smiling, next to pictures of the deceased. And the TV snapped off leaving him in the hospital bed, hopeless, with the snakes slithering in and out of his arm.