Look there’s Iceland.
Oh yes, it comes and goes.
Lying quietly in bed:
When will I get back my….And he murmurs the name of one of our doctors, over and over. I weep.
Wonder where our house is?
Oh it’s inside here then. That’s OK. When will we go home from here?
The guy in the mirror:
“Shush. Quiet. There are people everywhere. Have you seen that little guy who’s around here? He looks a bit like me….and hmmm… I look a bit like him. He’s getting quite friendly, I wave at him and he waves back. And I say hi and he does too.”
Later that day after a hair cut session in the other bathroom (the one with the mirror), he waved on the way out and said, “Thank you.” The relationship seems somehow on the qt, as if it is too fragile to be subjected to loud voices or social amenities.