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
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