The spot has grown larger. At least I think it has. Maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me. Maybe it’s my mind playing tricks on my eyes. I just don’t know anymore.
It’s been nearly three weeks since I first noticed the spot. I was lying in bed before lights out, glaring at the ceiling as I have done every night since I arrived here.
My first thought was that the brownish-yellow spot looked like a water stain from a leaky roof but of course that’s impossible in this place. Day after day, night after night the strange blotch on the ceiling has mesmerized me, commanding my attention day and night, even after the lights are out. I sense its presence even in pitch darkness; it emits some sort…
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West Coast Review 