I know it's been forever, but I felt the need to do some scribbling. So here's my response to Scribble Challenge #48.
John's eyes strained across the small room with fierce determination. For being only ten feet away, the lines were barely visible to his eyes. And, it seemed, the harder he tried to focus on them, the more difficult it became. 18... 19... 20...
"20 vertical and 42 horizontal," he whispered as a wave of triumph passed over him. But it quickly passed as he glanced at his quivering hands. Trying to force them to stop, he wrapped his arms around himself and drew his knees tight against them. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried to calm himself by rocking back and forth in the corner of the room. He attmepted to steady his breathing, but was distracted by the faint breeze from the vent above. Nothing seemed to work; only the counting kept his mind off his addiction.
John's eyes darted around the bare white room, searching again for something to count. Something to distract his mind once more. Unable to find something new, he mentally began recalling his previous counts.
54 seams in the padding on the floor, he thought silently.
Same as the ones on the ceiling.
15 ribs on on the 3 door hinges.
5 per hinge.
62 wires in the window on the door.
20 vertical, 42 horizontal.
23 times someone has passed by my room.
4 times was Dr. Tsung, the one who admitted me.
His eyes fell upon the clock outside his room. 7:07:30 PM. John had checked himself into rehab at 10 AM the day before. The numbers began working through in his head again. 1 day, 9 hours, 7 minutes and 30 seconds... 33 hours, 7 minutes, 30 seconds... 2012 minutes and... The minute hand suddenly made a resounding click. +1...
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