(no subject)

He's beginning to feel like there's a chance he'll see the makings of a real bed sometime soon. He says that every morning, but he truly believes it. With every passing day, his legs tremble a little less -- he can manage going a little farther -- and the pain doesn't last so long. He can take deeper breaths, he's remembering more, and it's all coming together to make him feel healed. David thinks he actually might be all right.

That still keeps him pent up in the clinic for most nights, just in case he needs a doctor's help before the morning's out. It gets a bit lonely, he won't lie. So, now, as the evening winds down, he has to start thinking about dinner again. Maybe he'll go to the kitchen and see if he can't strike up some conversation with someone else who doesn't have any plans for the evening.