No Time at All
There is no time in hospital. There are time words: half an
hour, ten days, tomorrow morning. But they mean nothing.
She looked at her watch. The consultant had said an hour –
unless there were complications. Surely it was well over an hour? What time had
she been wheeled away?
They sat either side of the bed space, silently anticipating
its return. The floor gaped between them. Machines ticked meaningless seconds.
The nurse came.
‘She’s in recovery. It’s time to go down.’
She gazed groggily at them. The consultant smiled.
‘Everything went perfectly. And it took no time at all!’
Next drabble to follow on Friday, unless I feel inspired in between!
Next drabble to follow on Friday, unless I feel inspired in between!
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