I'm laying down now, thinking and musing, because that's all I have now in this room of white lights and cold, lifeless machines trying to keep my heart beating steady. I should be thinking of my son, my little baby, or Sean or my parents, but all I can think of is the man in the corner. He's there again, tall and pale, I can see him out of the corner of my eye, I watch out of the corner of my eye when people walk passed him, oblivious to his existence. I watch out of the corner of my eye when he looks up, his unkept, greasy, long hair parting and showing a face that looks as though his skin was being stretched out around his head.