Coma by Shelagh Power-Chopra When I think of Arthur falling into the coma, I imagine him diving headlong into a mud puddle. Slip sliding down a dark abyss and drowning–his hands like stunted flippers, getting him nowhere. But he’s like that; a beautifully angular man, all sharp corners but clumsy as hell as if his body were carved by an amateur puppeteer. Noisy in life but an avalanche of man when unconscious: heartbeats that galloped across monitors, cacophonous wheezing and […]