She lay beside herself in the bed. The hospital bed was the bed she had been in for thirty-one days. The bed was the bed the dream had been built around. The bed had a metal frame, and a thin mattress, and a sheet tucked in tight, and a pillow with a dent in it. The dent was the dent she had been making for thirty-one days. The dent was the dent that had been the part of the part of her that had been the part of the dream. The woman beside her was breathing. The woman’s breathing was the breat...