![]() ![]() ![]() My balls feel hard and shriveled as walnuts, and my bony shoulders no longer brush against the pod’s sides. How long have I been in this thing? My neoprene circulation suit used to strain across my arms and chest. No wonder I’ve got a jackhammer of a headache and am deep-throating an air tube. It’s a windowless stasis pod, which is cozy. The darkness moves, creaking open, letting in a dash of light. My bones make small knocking noises on metal: Tock-tock, tock-tock-tock. I reach out, my knuckles stumbling across a flat surface in front of me. Bad idea-the air tube’s not ribbed for my pleasure.īesides shivering like a little kid in the dark, I mean. A mechanized puff of air forces my lungs to expand. The plastic clings to my spongy insides like cellophane. Air tubes are stuck down my throat and up my nostrils. The wake-up shock hits like a sledgehammer to the chest. ![]()
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