The white-haired man reclines in silence…. he hasn’t spoken to anyone today.
He quietly struggles to appreciate the cloud of realities that surround him.
Fading light fills the room but their shapes and colors his eyes can’t capture;
and his mind can only comprehend a portion of their visual messages.
Ceiling fans brush air across his skin. Gravity pulls him into the recliner.
He breaths in the mixed aromas of the room and arouses senses from their sleep.
A slight buzzing in his ears mixes with the light wispy sound of the turning fans.
He searches for awareness but what he does perceive is beyond his understanding.
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