Beginnings in media res

1. As I slowly disappeared in my tardy shrink’s waiting room, my eyes continually landed on a “Disaster Plan” flyer. It sported a mere ambulance picture with no emergency numbers, and loomed over a choking emergency chart. I puzzled how I would stop choking on my self-destructive thoughts and escape the disaster that was my expectant 54-year torturous life span. 
2. John slipped the umpteenth millionth resume envelope into the building’s rusty mail slot. The slot creaked emphatically and digested his last stamp from the month-old full roll. It gulped his current request for work. 
3. The narrower she focused, her sight increased. Her faded vision opened a panorama, concentrated vistas that revealed persevering patches in the kaleidoscopic quilt of her personal experiences. 
4.  “I’m sitting here because I don’t feel well,” the bundled, ruddy-faced woman declared to the guy entering the elevator. 
5. Bullet-riddled war fields and stark-uniformed troops littered inner city streets in Al Qaeda-occupied counties. Both insurgencies bore similar dressings; nobody could win. The president called his war-mongered cabinet to divine a graceful withdrawal from drug-torn, poverty-infested Middle-Eastern landscapes. 
6. She slipped and boomed back-flat on a sheet-ice bed; her son laughed at her. She told her neighbor that, no, in fact, she was not all right. The neighbor said, “Oh, okay,” and abruptly relocked her door. 
7. Acrid urine fumes and soiled dishwater stench reeked throughout her apartment; clean and dirty laundry heaps littered the hallway; and three boxes of unopened mail enveloped table tops and open floor spaces. She wept a little, turned on her side, and fell asleep while her TV shattered silence. 
8. At Christmas dinner, she could not ignore the beatific cherubic faces that shone from her cousins’ faces. She remembered when holiday magic enlightened her countenance, but now joy materialized in a second-person voice. She lost her first-person voice after parenthood emerged. 
9. Her stroke produced picture images instead of colorless words, providing the new wrinkle of more entertaining thoughts that seemed to obscure communication. At least, that’s what she believed. 
10. Coming home to her struck mother, who could not longer talk or walk, seemed insanely awkward. More to the point, she couldn’t stay with her Mom because the 24-hour nurse occupied the guest bedroom. She felt prematurely stripped of her inheritance.