Relative Condition {1}

“You’re awake!â€? exclaimed the eager young man.He approached and began to question me. He asked me my name, a question to which I could find no answer in my muddled mind. I shook my head in reply. He looked at my with either contempt or compassion. I was generally apathetic about his opinion of me. He asked if I knew my age, but for some reason I couldn’t discern an answer within the recesses of my mind. Feeling the inherent futility of the situation, I fixed my attention upon a doctor in the hallway speaking to a fat cop about a pregnant rape victim in room 126. I sympathized, remembering my mother’s rape. He continued with his trivial interrogation by asking if I knew why I was here. I had not yet even noted my location. Taking a moment to observe my surroundings, my reply was obvious. He mumbled that my condition was relatively good, a phrase which meant nothing to me as I was puzzled by my previously unacknowledged environment. He said somebody needed to speak to me, but I had long since stopped listening.

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