6
Lawrence
I woke to the golden light of late afternoon breaking through the clouds. It gilded the exposed top of the mountain I could see outside my hospital room.
“That’s rare,” the Italian-accented voice from earlier said. “The clouds hang thick here.”
I turned my head to see a tall, olive-skinned man with curly dark hair and intense black eyes. He wore blue scrubs and a stethoscope around his neck, and his badge said, “Barton Lucia, M.D., Pulmonology/Internal Medicine” in large letters with something along the bottom I couldn’t read. The hospital symbol to the left of his name looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
“Micro-climate?” I croaked out.
“In a sense. Here, have some water. I’ll raise the bed slowly. Let me know if you find it hard to breathe as I do.”
My mind whirred
