The curtains did not close completely and so light found its way through. With a laptop, in a hotel room on the Strip, he told a story that no one heard. The story was her story, it was their story. She was with him, at his side, on the bed.

He knew he needed her yet he searched the internet hoping to end the relationship. A website asked him why. He typed: misdiagnosed schizophrenia. It asked how she made him feel. Side Effects: blurred vision, restlessness, panic/terror, headaches, vivid nightmares, slurred speech. His comments told the tale: the last week has been the most hellish experience of my life. I shouldn’t have allowed her to convince me to take this medication; I wish I’d have tried something else. I know now that bipolar disorder with psychotic features is often misdiagnosed as schizophrenia.

They touched and she consented to him two white pills. They kissed. When he drank from her lips a dark veil enveloped him. In the morning he awoke loosed of her grip, the mistress he called Merrill.

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