from DARK HORSE to NIGHT MARE
Barbara remained in a coma, and was eventually transferred to a nursing home. Months blurred by; years were a rolling fog. Until one morning her eyes blinked open. She heard a vaguely familiar voice nearby. She felt a bed beneath her, and saw a large, strange room with beeping monitors and bedridden strangers.
A teenage girl in a blue smock appeared above Barbara’s head.
Barbara remembered headlights. “What’s the…date?”
Barbara saw an afternoon press conference on the White House lawn. Reporters faced a president with orange hair combed in multiple directions. He was chattering about...a car accident? An automobile collusion? He denied colluding into a car full of...Russians. The police report was a hoax. "No collision, no collusion!" he said.
Barbara squinted—no, it can’t be—and recognized the new president. “Where am I?”
Barbara felt a surreal jolt. Her hospital bed spun like a top. Was she awake, dreaming, vegetative?