Misery

The only light was a dim yellow incandescent bulb in the corner closest to the sliding door. Underneath sat a sink and mirror splattered with soap stains and a smudged stainless steal towel dispenser that was out of towels. Drinking straws, small wipes and gauze sat neatly on the counter. The light of the bulb didn't fill the whole room, leaving the dark blue of the walls nearly black. The bed jutted out perpendicular to the wall dividing all of the room but a narrow path at the foot of the bed. Above the pathway, an old black TV fit into a holding rack barely tall enough to walk under, but seated so that the patient could comfortably arch their neck forward to view it. A speakerphone lay on the bed that blasted audio from the old black TV. On the bed was a man who had no use for the TV, he slept quietly in the darkness of his room while a woman restlessly shifted her weight in her chair. The man wore a painful expression on his face, as if he were experiencing a miserable dream, but I don't think he was sleeping.