Time went so fast when I was outside, but inside time stands still. I sit, my elbows on my knees staring at the floor. My denim trousers, cuffs ragged, brush the tops of my feet. Funny, I used to hate clipping my toenails, now I look forward to that tiny bit of humanity. With my finger tips I scrub my shaved head, wishing for dandruff or hairs. There is neither.
I wonder; what color is my hair? I haven’t seen a mirror in years. Is my hair gray yet, or maybe white. White would be nice. Short and white, like a mouse. I smile at the idea. Here my head is shaved every three days, and my face is shaved daily, that’s when I’m forced to lay back and the person shaving me is out of my sight.
My paper slippers need replacing, but I can’t depend on that happening. But it’s okay, some night after I fall asleep someone will replace my slippers, and when I awake it will be like Christmas. I’ll smell the newness, and feel the ridged texture of the paper slippers, and I’ll be happy for a day.