Kate lays in the corner, syringe dug deep into the purple bruise she calls her vein. The vacant body is alive but its host is elsewhere. Her gaze travels through the walls off into infinity. Indistinguishable from the dead. She might as well be a zombie.
It wears and clarity arrives. Memories of the accident in which they all died. She once had a husband and children, but that’s in the past.
The syringe makes it all a lie. Nothing exists and neither does she.