Lucid

Ask and ye shall receive? I was complaining on Tumblr about how I hadn't written much, and then this happens a few hours later. What? 

118 words.

Lucid

            Few visitors came to his room. Every so often he heard the nurse wander in and she’d ask him a question or two. He’d make a non-committal noise, his eyes focused elsewhere despite his current position facing out the window. There wasn’t anything familiar about this view. Normally he’d see high rises; other businessmen lurking on the streets below; the taxis bustling by with their fares.

            On lucid days he’d just gaze at the passing cars of the suburb, wondering what his life had become. Shifting barely in his wheelchair, he blinked back tears.

            “Mr. Wilson, is something wrong?” The nurse was checking his pulse and giving him a once over as her training dictated.

            “Everything,” he whispered.