hospital

I shuffle hurriedly along icy pavements to the hospital. The bus was late. The bus is always late.

I've come in from the back, and it takes me a while to find my way in, circling the car park. Entrance 5? Entrance 3? It's a frigid Saturday afternoon. No one is here.

Inside, I look for signs to Dermatology. There are none. Mild panic begins to set in. Am I in the right place?

I pace the hallways, passing, here and there, tired looking staff. I keep to myself. The hospital echoes emptily, like a pandemic airport. Like it doesn't remember what it is, or why.

I find an information desk. The lights are off. No one is home. A printer languishes, incongruous, behind the counter. I stare at it. It stares back.

-- ouro, 2023-01-23