01/11/05

When I first open my eyes after twenty five years in a coma, Mum is sitting in a chair a short way from the bed with a green blanket on her knee. I can see her in the mirror. A television is on. I think we both wake up at the same time. She stands up carefully and walks over. Disbelieving, she stoops over me. She kisses me several times. We are already both in tears.
“Terry,” she says.
I try to speak but there is something wrong with my voice.
“Terry.”
I try to speak again.
“Terry.”
“Muuh..”
With this, Mum lets out a sort of wail, a sound I have never heard before.

Sometime later, I discover my voice.
“Mum. I’ve slept through my entire life. What will I do?” I want to know.

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