Friday, 14 April 2017

The Release

"Ali" she unfurls her thick lips to mumble her short surname.

"Take a seat." Sara, knowing off by heart the lyrics and melody to the every week call-and-response game of a local hospital centre, takes a seat at the corner of the baby blue painted waiting room. She looks over for friendly company. Her therapist from last year, maybe, whom she had great rapport with and was able to test her almost-witty dry humour on, might just walk by with his busy workload and students following.

Or could it be another patient. Therefore, she prepared a fake-warm smile or a weary nod to whoever followed by.

"Sara!" she looked over to an unfamiliar student nurse, in tow with her supervising Doctor. Sara pushed her feet in. Then she remembered her smile and nod but her eyes darted across the room to the farthest floor, as if trying to meet a gaze but failing to.

Its a quarter to four.

Sara is on the 16 bus to nowhere, middletown.

Sara is afraid of a few things - one, as the daylight plasters on without the puncture of skylines.

Its half past four.

Sara's family are eight. They greet her warmly. She interprets their distance.

The Koran is playing upstairs, the Chapter named after Mary - Jesus' mother.

She feels OK now. The evening news bellows across the lounge room. She watches the bright flash of the telly, rueful.





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