Whispers can’t be heard

suddenly he was back on the table The neon hum returning in unison with the lights The chest cavity which a moment ago was opened was somehow healed no scar tissue and held clasped to his chest was a thin A4 sized book it’s cover was black but not like a matt finish it seemed to undulate like trickling oil but a thin gold line cut into one corner where his fingers touched the cover whirlpool of luminous blue rippled across book My eyes darted between my colleagues and the scalpel I held in my hand back to my patient His eyes flashed open gone was any colour just darkness but somehow in the darkness movement