Sentence The Onehundredandseventysixth 
And when he opened his eyes again, everything was askew and he didn't like it: gone was the vastness of the Universe and the Astral Plane, and he felt rather sick, as if he had come down with a bump and it had jolted him out of Limbo and into – what? he looked around – this isn't the Intensive Care Unit, he would swear that on a Bible, not even A&E, he craned his neck and looked around: a Cave! how can I be in a fucking Cave? now Tavish was not given to oaths, curses, profanities or any other form of swearing, so for him to use that word meant that this was a very, VERY serious situation indeed; he felt around with his hands and then looked at them, greyish dust and dirt, no sheets; he tried to look down at his body – he was naked, and lying on the floor of a large, rather lofty cave or cavern, with signs of moiling for something, not Gold or Silver, maybe Tin or Lead, oh Dammit, I'm no Geologist so why am I doing this? he also spotted stitching on his chest, above his left nipple, where two scars seemed to cross, as though making four flaps which could be folded back – of course, his heart; how can I have forgotten that? and he wondered how long it had been, he glanced at his wrist – no watch, but of course it would have been taken off for safety during the operation and it's probably in his locker – I'm in a bloody CAVE, you fool, there are no lockers, or even beds; I've no way of telling how many days might have passed, there aren't any windows; suddenly he bawled out: “nurse, nurse, I need a bedpan!” that usually brought them running, but nothing happened; okay, take it step by step and keep it calm, professional, and serious: I've had an operation, for the gunshot wound, probably pretty extensive, from what I remember hearing, certainly invasive, very expensive, and certainly ex delicto, they can bill Pherson for it – and he paused and shrugged his left shoulder as best he could, oh! a jolt of pain like electricity shot across his chest and he found himself short of breath for a few minutes – that's the exit wound, feels like a bit of damage to the shoulder-blade; right – no sudden moves, take it slow, smooth and easy: so far as I can see the chest wound is healing nicely, no dressing, probably, hopefully the same at the back, so a few weeks at my age, rather than days; but why am I here, naked on the floor of a cave, maybe it's a hallucination – from urine or kidney infection, maybe, MRSA? oh shit, I hope not – I can see my obituary: 'he survived an assassin's bullet only to suffer a lingering death from an infection picked up in the Hospital' – no, that's not funny, Tabby, Tabby! are you here? nurse! nurse! and then he heard the voice again, but was it inside his head, or outside his body – somewhere in this cave? but maybe the Cave is inside my Head – Bernie, Bernie, is that you? and like an echo it came back to him – “I'm here, here in the Cave, stay still, I'm coming over to you”; and soon, sure enough, Bernie Westwater, his daughter Tammy's partner, was kneeling beside him and stroking his head gently; “I'm glad you've come,” she said, “it's been quite lonely here, just me with them, they're not like us, I've got a feeling they might do things, things I wouldn't want to do, I don't know if that's true, but it's a feeling I've got, that, maybe, they might be cannibals, you know? they might eat people, maybe anyone who is too weak or unable to contribute, you know, pull their weight, dead wood, sort of, I'm not certain, but I do think so,” and he began to panic – she sounds mad, what have I landed in, maybe she's the Kathy Bates character in that Steven King thing, what was it? we watched it, where was it, there were a lot of people, Christ it's me who's going mad, and he could feel her touching him, see her wearing hairy things, why was she looking at him that way? was she measuring him for the pot, or for that thing they wrap you up in, a newspaper, like that stuff you eat, why is it getting darker, “someone's switched something off,” he said and the girl seemed to be making faces at him “don't leave me,” she said, “when you've just arrived,” and he could see her hands with the little wavy things that tried to catch him, but the rest was clouded, and he tried to hold her but he seemed to be falling and she was slipping away from him, and there wasn't a place anymore, and he couldn't feel anything anymore, and he couldn't hear anything anymore, and he couldn't see anything anymore and he wasn't sure if he was thinking anymore, and a little sliver like ice trickled through his brain and he said “it's not dementia, it's not, it's anomia, when you can't remember what things are called, I'm not senile, it's just that . . . . . I'm just . . . . . I'm just wondering . . . . . am I really here . . . . . or am I dead?”
And when he opened his eyes again, everything was askew and he didn't like it: gone was the vastness of the Universe and the Astral Plane, and he felt rather sick, as if he had come down with a bump and it had jolted him out of Limbo and into – what? he looked around – this isn't the Intensive Care Unit, he would swear that on a Bible, not even A&E, he craned his neck and looked around: a Cave! how can I be in a fucking Cave? now Tavish was not given to oaths, curses, profanities or any other form of swearing, so for him to use that word meant that this was a very, VERY serious situation indeed; he felt around with his hands and then looked at them, greyish dust and dirt, no sheets; he tried to look down at his body – he was naked, and lying on the floor of a large, rather lofty cave or cavern, with signs of moiling for something, not Gold or Silver, maybe Tin or Lead, oh Dammit, I'm no Geologist so why am I doing this? he also spotted stitching on his chest, above his left nipple, where two scars seemed to cross, as though making four flaps which could be folded back – of course, his heart; how can I have forgotten that? and he wondered how long it had been, he glanced at his wrist – no watch, but of course it would have been taken off for safety during the operation and it's probably in his locker – I'm in a bloody CAVE, you fool, there are no lockers, or even beds; I've no way of telling how many days might have passed, there aren't any windows; suddenly he bawled out: “nurse, nurse, I need a bedpan!” that usually brought them running, but nothing happened; okay, take it step by step and keep it calm, professional, and serious: I've had an operation, for the gunshot wound, probably pretty extensive, from what I remember hearing, certainly invasive, very expensive, and certainly ex delicto, they can bill Pherson for it – and he paused and shrugged his left shoulder as best he could, oh! a jolt of pain like electricity shot across his chest and he found himself short of breath for a few minutes – that's the exit wound, feels like a bit of damage to the shoulder-blade; right – no sudden moves, take it slow, smooth and easy: so far as I can see the chest wound is healing nicely, no dressing, probably, hopefully the same at the back, so a few weeks at my age, rather than days; but why am I here, naked on the floor of a cave, maybe it's a hallucination – from urine or kidney infection, maybe, MRSA? oh shit, I hope not – I can see my obituary: 'he survived an assassin's bullet only to suffer a lingering death from an infection picked up in the Hospital' – no, that's not funny, Tabby, Tabby! are you here? nurse! nurse! and then he heard the voice again, but was it inside his head, or outside his body – somewhere in this cave? but maybe the Cave is inside my Head – Bernie, Bernie, is that you? and like an echo it came back to him – “I'm here, here in the Cave, stay still, I'm coming over to you”; and soon, sure enough, Bernie Westwater, his daughter Tammy's partner, was kneeling beside him and stroking his head gently; “I'm glad you've come,” she said, “it's been quite lonely here, just me with them, they're not like us, I've got a feeling they might do things, things I wouldn't want to do, I don't know if that's true, but it's a feeling I've got, that, maybe, they might be cannibals, you know? they might eat people, maybe anyone who is too weak or unable to contribute, you know, pull their weight, dead wood, sort of, I'm not certain, but I do think so,” and he began to panic – she sounds mad, what have I landed in, maybe she's the Kathy Bates character in that Steven King thing, what was it? we watched it, where was it, there were a lot of people, Christ it's me who's going mad, and he could feel her touching him, see her wearing hairy things, why was she looking at him that way? was she measuring him for the pot, or for that thing they wrap you up in, a newspaper, like that stuff you eat, why is it getting darker, “someone's switched something off,” he said and the girl seemed to be making faces at him “don't leave me,” she said, “when you've just arrived,” and he could see her hands with the little wavy things that tried to catch him, but the rest was clouded, and he tried to hold her but he seemed to be falling and she was slipping away from him, and there wasn't a place anymore, and he couldn't feel anything anymore, and he couldn't hear anything anymore, and he couldn't see anything anymore and he wasn't sure if he was thinking anymore, and a little sliver like ice trickled through his brain and he said “it's not dementia, it's not, it's anomia, when you can't remember what things are called, I'm not senile, it's just that . . . . . I'm just . . . . . I'm just wondering . . . . . am I really here . . . . . or am I dead?”
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