Wednesday, June 12, 2013

59. Feeling sick

She sat at the edge of his hospital bed. She ran her hands along the dinosaur printed blanket to ensure its smoothed perfection. Simple worries given the bigger picture.

"I wanna-" He whined, but his eyes were still closed.

"I know you do," She started, reaching over and pressing her hand to his cheek, "But you can't. Not yet."

"When?" His voice dragged on.

She sighed, looking away from him and towards the nearby door. "I don't really know. Soon, I hope."

"I hate it here."

She watched the movement from the door; the way bodies moved through the corridor at a steady pace. It was never silent; "I know you do."
Word Count: 112

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