Corridors

A cold blast of air followed William and I

down the bleached corridor. We were

guided by a duty nurse, who swiped his

card, unlocking the double doors ahead.

At the nurse’s station, staff worked

assiduously, scribbling into thick patient

files. Nobody looked up. Someone

pounded their fists on a hidden door

and moaned out to be released. No one

took notice. I asked at the desk about

Mother. She was sleeping, although it

was past midday. An obese man, stood

on his tiptoes, was performing a

languorous dance. He was shouting out

crazily. No one cared. The nurse went to

fetch Mother. I was afraid. William

whimpered beside me.

Author: Robert James Berry

Poet & Novelist

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