The BiPAP essentially took control of my breathing away from me, which was intensely annoying,
but the great thing about it was that it made all this noise, rumbling with each inhalation and whirring as I exhaled.
I kept thinking that it sounded like a dragon breathing in time with me,
like I had this pet dragon who was cuddled up next to me and cared enough about me to time his breaths to mine.
I was thinking about that as I sank into sleep. I got up late the next morning.
I watched TV in bed and checked my email and then after a while started crafting an email to Peter Van Houten
about how I couldn’t come to Amsterdam but I swore upon the life of my mother that I would never share any information about the characters with anyone,
that I didn’t even want to share it, because I was a terribly selfish person,
and could he please just tell me if the Dutch Tulip Man is for real and if Anna’s mom marries him
and also about Sisyphus the Hamster. But I didn’t send it. It was too pathetic even for me.
Around three, when I figured Augustus would be home from school, I went into the backyard and called him.
As the phone rang, I sat down on the grass, which was all overgrown and dandeliony.
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