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“And I have a breakfast in a bit with a potential client.”No morning romp. But it was OK. We both had work to do.I got up, kissed her on her neck as she applied her makeup, and got dressed.“See you later?” I asked as I started to leave.“Oh, you’ll see me sooner rather than later,” she teased.A thousand and one possibilities swirled through my head in about three seconds.I knew I had to get out of there, sooner rather than later.We set up the stage for the first panel discussion of the day. There are three awful times to be on the agenda: first thing before the crowd is caffeinated, the last slot before lunch, and the last slot before happy hour. Clearly, I’d drawn one of the short straws.Nonetheless, the early crowd flowed into the ballroom and began taking their seats a few minutes before 8:30. Conventions become a disaster if time constraints aren’t followed, so I and my three other panelists readied ourselves on stage a few minutes early.Going over notes, talking points, and who. Employee of the year recognitions was given to staff from different areas of the company. It was a formal event, and I had to present a few of the awards myself. Anticipating the event, I had gotten my hair done, along with my nails, and bought a new, black dress.When my turn came to hand out awards, I stood behind the podium and looked at all the people seated at their tables. I was nervous up until this point. I expected to be even more once I got up in front of everyone, but my professional persona kicked in, and I just started. I had three people in my district that I wanted to give awards to for exceptional service. I called them up one at a time to provide them with a certificate and gift card, then had a photo taken.My district manager, Mike, took the podium after I finished. He was the same manager who tried to coerce me into sex before I got the promotion. That memory was always present in my mind when seeing him. It didn’t make me mad or angry. Instead, I remembered how it.
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He had seen her once but desperately wanted to see her again, a fact that he found quite disturbing.Simon peeped in. She was lying motionless on her bed, as could be expected of comatose patient. Her face was pale, drawn, but beautiful nonetheless, her brow scarred. The white sheet, draped over her midsection, was just partially covering a hideous metal frame the purpose of which was unknown to Simon. But he was sure that some of those shiny rods were inserted in her pelvis and lower back. A month ago he had heard a doctor mentioning that her spinal cord was damaged and she was paralyzed from the waist down."Poor thing, comatose and paralyzed," mumbled Simon, and then wondered why his pity distinguished this particular patient from all others, which were equally unfortunate.Simon couldn't avert his gaze from her left leg that was elevated above the bed by a system of pulleys and ropes. The white plaster cast, encasing it from the middle of the thigh to the ankle, was enormously.

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