illness, reminiscent, fatherhood
The breathlessness gathered until he was drowning again. He reached for the mask-translucent rubber, green-attached by a rubber umbilical to an ugly green cylinder which rose from behind the end table like some leafless prehistoric plant. He placed the mask over mouth and nose, snapped the elastic into his hair, grasped the handle at the top of the cylinder. He shut his eyes, braced himself, and concentrated on being full. But for all their ballooning, for all their assaulting of other organs, his lungs' appetite wouldn't quell. He screwed the handle all the way counter-clockwise. The supposedly tasteless stuff tasted metallic and yellow.
Inscape: Vol. 4:
3, Article 6.
Available at: https://scholarsarchive.byu.edu/inscape/vol4/iss3/6