Today's OneWord: Bedside

Frankie stayed at my bedside the entire time I was ill, holding my clammy hand and singing to me as I faded in and out of consciousness. I had strange dreams, mostly consisting of abstract shapes and bubbles that carried me to a shoddily drawn house on a crayon landscape. It was as if my mind had been melted like wax, and the last memories I had were of things I had created as a small child in art class.

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