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A Lunatic Asylum The white walls seemed to go on forever. Bleak and monotonous the tunnel seemed to swirl towards a centre that contained everything that a man could dream of. It seemed at the end of this corridor, which seemed to stretch for years lay the secret, the answer to the question, the reason for it all…………. “Lights out!”. The sharp cry and solid clonk of the lights turning off disturbed patient number 55 from his daze. The sudden drift into darkness registered a look of mild surprise in his face, before it fell back into the limp, placid form it had held for nearly 8 years. It was the same for all the patients on the long-term ward at the James Fletcher Hospital. Every day the nurses and doctors would look for some kind of recognition to the outside world from the patients, something that offered them the slimmest hope that they had some idea of their surroundings.
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