Shaking, trembling, and sweating. He was feverish and delirious. The bed was damp and cold. The room smelled as though imitation flowers were trying to cover a sterilized hospital room. Next to him snored a stranger. He was sleepless, confused, and near tears.

For years the solutions had always come easy. From vodka or pills. Now there were none. No solutions. All had failed him. As he fumbled for a cigarette in the dark, his hands trembled and he could barely find his lips. He thought how he had always pulled through. Strong, independent, resourceful. He had always managed. He had owned a home, a business, and had loved and been loved. He had been talked about, written about, liked and disliked. Now he was at the end of it all. There was nothing left.

He was confused. The booze had always managed to clear his head, and ease the pain. But not now. Here they tell him there was a better way. "You have a problem," they said. Ha! "What do they know?" he thought. "I am not like the others here. I am not like them. I'm no bum. I've always handled my liquor. I'm not crazy!" He was startled by the sound of his own voice and the realization that he was speaking aloud.

But now at 4am, with the taste of tobacco and dirty cotton balls in his mouth, he wondered. Perhaps this is it, he thought. Perhaps this is all there is, and now it is time to die. He had listened to them. Looked at their literature. What makes them so special? What is they think they can do that I haven't already tried?

Turning on the light, the mountainous mass on the other bed groaned and stirred. He's out cold from the meds, he thought. Trying to steady his mind and get back to sleep, he began to read some more. Short stories? I can handle that, he thought. And he read. And read some more. As he read, his hands began to tremble less. He became calm. His heart slowed. The room seemed to get brighter and more colorful. He was oblivious to his surroundings and the impending sunrise.

These stories were about him! The same thoughts. The same pain. The same past. The same worries, misery, and fears. The reluctance to ask for help. The failure of willpower. As tears swelled within his eyes, everything all at once became clear. There was a power within his reach. It was all about him. It was within him. A power that for but a moment relieved all his ills. He at once felt peace. Warmth. Serenity. Comfort.

He felt hope. And this was the beginning of another day.