Sleepyhead tt-1 Page 31

  Anne moved across to the ventilator and flipped back the plastic cover that protected the switch, as if it were the button that launched nuclear missiles. She looked over at the bed.

  Alison had already closed her eyes.

  Whatever the quality of the strange, laughable life that Alison had lived these last months, it had been lived to a permanent soundtrack of humming, hissing, beeping, dripping. Twenty-four hours a day. A life defined by noise. James Bishop had condemned her to that, but Alison had refused to let herself be his victim.

  Now, finally, the noise had stopped.

  More than anything, Anne Coburn hoped that Alison might hold on to life just long enough to enjoy the silence.

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  Document creation date: 27.08.2011

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