White.

     The place is nothing but a vast sea of white.

     Doctors in crisp, white coats, rushing around with their long, white syringes and bottomless bottles of tiny white pills.

     Nurses in starched, white uniforms, scurrying up and down white corridors, carting baskets of white sheets, some soiled, some not.

     Cooks in grease-stained, white aprons, spooning awful government food into white styrofoam trays.

     Patients in baggy, white hospital attire, sitting up and staring wild-eyed around tiny, white rooms. Up at white flourescent lights. Down at white floor tiles. Out windows blocked by iron bars, painted white.

     No color, no cheer.

     Just me, suffocating, drowning in white.