I barely saw Morpheus over the next few weeks, having been bombarded with schoolwork and working at the restaurant, but when I did see him I didn’t get to talk to him much. The second time I worked in the ward after he woke up, I realized that he was being watched by the staff, as if he were some sort of terrorist or international criminal on the run. I half expected him to be handcuffed to the bed when I returned, but instead I found him channel surfing and complaining about how pointless and repetitive television had become. I smiled at him as I entered but didn’t dare speak to him for more than a few minutes since a security guard had been posted by the entrance to the ward. The nurses tried to tell me that it was a new hospital procedure, but since none of the other wards were being wa
