Expectations

By Caterina Evangelista

The words, “You have schizophrenia,” beleaguered Juan as he lay in an asylum, being restrained, suffocated, submerged in water, a singular voice in his mind springing wings and rising louder. He escaped, returning to his empty house, but not his home. Afterward, he sleepwalked to a funeral home and climbed into a casket with a body inside it, causing watchers to scream. Soon homeless, Juan walked out of the bank penniless and was shot, a hole bursting through him like a flower forced to bloom before Spring arrived. Death, dressed in white and drenched in honeysuckle, embraced Juan. He was relieved.