Cold. That is the word that best defines a room with white walls and nothing more than a tiny television hanging as decoration. However, there is something else against the opposite wall: the metal headboard of an articulated bed (I think that coldness can also define it) next to the air tank (which has all that air I am lacking).
A door hides the mini wardrobe where, from the first day, my tracksuit, my underwear and my wallet wait, and I don’t recall the moment they were placed there
A little table to leave the tray with the food that I try to finish every day without success. Days that are spent under the influence of medication and various emotions, hundreds of them I would say, that flow through my inner being.
The loneliness is only interrupted by those light beings that do not enter through my window but through the door. Those angels that, wearing science fiction movie clothes, did their duty, their work, and because of whom I shine more and better today. I cannot imagine this wiy
Thank you, my angels in room 41.