The beach was stony; strewn with litter and used syringes. After six weeks without sleep, only the crash of the waves could drown out the other sounds echoing in Frank’s head.
He stared out to sea, watching the sunrise. He’d been here for days, too scared to close his eyes. The salt had rotted the stitching of his suit.
The hypnagogic hallucinations started two weeks ago. Terrifying apparitions augmented in his mind’s eye, projected through his visual cortex, manifested, made real. Why did I take those pills?
Hands shaking, he held the edge of the straight razor to his retina.