Bleeding In The Eye Of A Brainstorm - Plot & Excerpts
"Oh, my," she sighed in a hoarse, small voice as she turned her head and saw me. "Are you all right, Margaret?" "I ... I don't know. I feel so tired, Mongo. I don't know what's wrong with me. I had . . . this terrible nightmare." "Yeah. Me too. I know about your nightmare, Margaret. I shared it. That's why I'm here." She pulled back the blanket covering her, started to try to get out of bed, stopped when she saw the blood-soaked bedding beneath her. "Oh," she said in the same weak voice. "I must have gotten my monthly. I'm sorry." "There's nothing for you to be sorry about. I'm the one who's sorry." "But I've ruined your sheets and blankets. And I think I'm late for work." "Don't you worry about the sheets and blankets; I've got more. And you're not going to work. I'm your boss, and I'm ordering you to take the day off. I'm going to change the bed and give you one of Garth's sweatshirts to wear, and then I want you to get right back into bed and stay there. I have things to do, but I'll have Francisco look in on you from time to time, and he'll bring you your meals.
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