PHOTO PROMPT ©Jill Wisoff
‘Now I know, Doctor Gordon.’
Gordon’s hands lay folded on her lap. She knew not to move too much or too suddenly during their chats. ‘What is it you know, Samuel?’
A light glowed behind his ashen eyes. ‘Why I’m always so tired.’
Beneath the worry lines and shadows, she saw the child trying to escape.
‘The city lights,’ he said, hands a blur, ‘they’re powered by my thoughts. Think of it all – the subway, the stores, the buildings. So much energy.’
Through the barred window, Gordon glimpsed a streetlight. The fat bulb blinked, guttered to darkness …