Dried out memories rolled across my barren mindscape as I searched for a landmark, something to show me the way. Anxiety caused dust devils to swirl and dance, obscuring the horizon and leaving me feeling disoriented.
I began to stumble along the dusty surface of my thoughts, but every time I thought I had found something familiar, I had only wandered right back to where I had started. The sameness of my mind was foreign and scary.
Disembodied voices shouted all around me, but every time I tried to focus on them, they faded to echoes.
I tried to cry out, but only a shriveled inhuman cry escaped my parched lips. I slumped to the ground, closed my eyes, and cried myself to sleep.
“I’m sorry,” the nurse said. “George isn’t having a good day.”
Nancy looked at her father as tears escaped from his closed eyes and drifted down the deep wrinkles embedded in his cheeks. She gently whipped some of the tears away and gave him a light kiss.
“Dad doesn’t have many good days anymore,” she said with her voice breaking a little. “But I still love him.”
I finally felt comfort and smiled as I dreamed.