"decreased" is my favorite word to write out. All lower cases though. That's the best way.
decreased decreased decreased decreased. Every letter has a curve in it. My left hand just kind of does tiny variations of circles and half circles when I write it. decreased decreased.
So many new uses of it, too.
Wow, Simkin, it looks like your chances of escape have decreased!
I can't really see it, but it feels like the entire left side of your body has decreased!
Shit, its boiling hot in here, it must be like a million decrease!
That's the first smile I have managed to muster since the moment I realized that there is nothing to smile about.
I wonder what my smile looks like now. It feels different, for sure.
Feels smaller.
Feels tighter.
Feels…crooked.


I saw a light!
It was just for few seconds. But I saw it.
It came from the top of the 3 steps over in the corner (?) of the room. It was just a sliver of light. It was a small, horizontal glow that I immediately got lost in as my dementia had me thinking I was an inch tall watching the tiniest, but most beautiful sunset.
But I snapped out of my trance no more than a split second later and scuddled over toward the light, tripping over squishy mounds of piled mystery.
The light meant that there was a hole.
And the shape meant that that hole was a gap in between the door and the stairs.
And a door means an exit.
I dove toward the light, head first, smashing my chin on the top stair. The subtle plane crash sound of my mandible cracking inward didn't even phase my intentions.
I tilted my head 90 degrees and got my eye as close to the light as I could, and I almost forgot to attempt to SEE anything, as I just inhaled the radiance and filled my lungs with hope.
And though there wasn't much to see other than an oddly patterned carpet in what looked like a narrow hallway, I saw the sole of a bloodied, crusted black boot step into my view, right as I heard a click and the light went off. My eye and nostrils slammed hard into the crack that the light called its home, in a subconscious (I guess) attempt to not let the light go. Like my nasal passage was somehow going to be able to vacuum it up and store the light inside my eyeballs allowing me to use it sparingly when I need to see.
That didn't exactly happen.
Instead, I seemed to channel some kind of deranged mime and started feeling around the crack, following the door, looking for more cracks, searching for a doorknob, or a hinge I can break, or something to further the hope. But there was nothing. With the fragment of rejuvenated energy I felt from eating the light, I thew my arms and my body against the door, pounding on it as hard as I could. Pathetic jibberish was pouring out of my mouth and splashing against the near-sound-proof door. My words turned to sobs.
My energy drained.
I cried myself to sleep at the base of the door, hoping to get jolted awake by another appearance of the tiny sunset.