HOOKED ON ZERO

CHAPTER TWOThere was a loud ringing noise that won't let up. It was so shrill and bothersome. Even when I rolled to the other side of the bed, it persisted. I covered my ears with such force, I almost busted my eardrums."Uhhhh! Stop that infernal noise."It stopped miraculously and I was able to breathe easier, but just when I was about to turn, it started up once again."Will you please stop your alarm clock, it's messing with my sleep." I woke with a start to see Chito beside my bed, hair mussed, eyes red and heavy from lack of sleep.Pity coursed through me. I was sure he had not been able to sleep since, and here I was messing it up. I rolled over and hit the off button on my bedside alarm. "Sorry, buddy, I thought I was dreaming. Try and get some sleep."I rolled to the other side, intent on catching some more shut eye, but after a few minutes of tossing and turning, I gave up and opened my eyes. I got out of bed and was sh

THE DIAGNOSIS The call came in the night while I was fast asleep holding Aretha. It was one of those rare moments where she had not thrashed all through the night. I checked that she was still breathing and quietly slipped out of bed making sure not to wake her. It wasn't every day I got to have the luxury of holding her close, so naturally I was upset when once I got into junior's bedroom, I picked the call. "Hello, is this Mr. Moore?" The strange clinical voice asked. After revealing my identity to the caller, he introduced himself as doctor Rogers from Almond hospital. I had a flash back of a medium sized man in a blue scrub underneath a white lab coat. "I'm afraid the diagnosis doesn't look too encouraging, sir. Your secretary has blunt head trauma, five cracked ribs a fractured hip and a punctured lung. She might not last tonight. Even if she does, it will be extensive work to make her whole again; she will need physiotherapy to learn how to work again, she might or might not

AFTERI woke the following morning wondering how I had gotten into my bed. Memories of the day before assailed me and despair hit me all over again like a flower in full bloom.I closed my eyes as tears filled them. I was too damn emotional for a man. I squeezed my eyelids, feeling the pain flare up behind them. I sighed and opened them again. All around me, traces of Aretha had all but vanished. The matching golden filigree bedside lamps she bought, the two gilt high backed chairs in front of the bed, the pure cotton bedsheets she favored over the silk one's I preferred. Even her clothes, shoes and all of her ornaments, every single item, I had given to charity.They were a painful reminder of what was meant to be, but wasn't.My eyes widened when they fell on the curtains.Who in their right mind would agree to have sunshiny yellow curtains?Aretha, that's who.She had always loved the colour yellow. Not just any shade of yellow. It had to be the exact shade of the sun - yellow with

THE OTHER SIDECould this morning get any messier?Twice, I had spilt tea on two different ties, and twice, I had changed them. Two charcoal grey ties that would have immediately screamed elegant.I blamed the two cups of tea I had binge-drunk in a fit of anxiety. The offending items sat on my bedside table looking deceptively innocent.The question that had been creeping into my head after I removed yet the second tie, was what was I going to wear?I was meant to meet with some members from the DEA today at my laboratory and I didn't want to mess it up like I had done the last time. The first impression was nothing to write home about, so the second one had to be near-perfect."Why don't you wear another tie?" The robot asked from behind me.I had put back the microchip I removed back into it's head because I felt guilty and wanted to apologize. Not to the robot, but to Aretha, my wife. I knew she wouldn't like me shutting down the gift I bought for her.I stood in front of the full

SECOND CHANCES"So, Mr. Moore, what can the public expect from Exceva in the long run?"Mr. Moore, how many people do you perceive will be cured using Exceva?""Mr. Moore, will you . . .”I mentally shut out the words of the third reporter. At that point in time, I was about ready to keel over. My eyes had become blurry and red and they stung, but I lifted my shoulders a little higher and pasted on a smile that didn't reach my heart. "As you all know, my wife was diagnosed with womb cancer. Unfortunately, she wasn't diagnosed on time, and as a result. . ." I looked down and shook my head, valiantly trying to keep the tears which threatened to swim to the surface, at bay.I looked back up at all the reporters that swarmed around, eagerly waiting for the rest of my words and I knew I couldn't let the water works reign free. "Exceva was meant for people who have been diagnosed with early stage cancer. It is a drug that's meant to give sustainability, but above all, restoration and comple