“The Institution”

I’m lying on a gurney in the entrance hall of the institution. My arms are strapped to my sides, my legs immobilized in stirrups and my head, stabilized by padded clamps. I cannot move my body but am relieved to find I can rotate my eyes from side to side, up and down, and close them at will. However, I cannot escape the searing noonday sun which sends its beams through a circular opening in the roof and lasers psychedelic patterns onto my brain. I am not mad now, but know I will be soon. That is why I am here.

(Inspired by Jennifer Pendergast’s photo. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Friday Fictioneers, March 8, 2013.)

This entry was posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Short Fiction, Short Story and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to “The Institution”

  1. JackieP says:

    oh my, madness cometh.

  2. Unfortunately, I do believe that is the intention here–

  3. Hmm, sounds as though we were somewhat on the same evil page this week. Reminds me of the old Nazi movies where they would shine an extremely bright light into the eyes of the person being interrogated. We have a lamp with a halogen bulb that Bill likes to use to read and we call it the interrogation lamp because if he turns it too far, it’s much too bright for anyone else sitting on the couch.


    • vbholmes says:

      You’re right, there is a similarity between our stories–I must admit, I was thinking of a 19th-century insane asylum where, at times, people were unjustifiably committed and kept for the rest of their lives. Hard to stay sane in one of those places.

  4. ManicDdaily says:

    Really crazy. Well-depicted. K.

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