The wait…

Minor injuries unit, they used to call his A&E we got downgraded.

I used to think nothing good ever happens in these places,

except death.

Pain.

Tears.

I search the room and wonder what ailments sit on these timeless chairs.

To my left;

A grandchild, bored but patient, nanny is feeling poorly, grandad is wearing sandals and socks with a  hole in the left big toe.

She’s hurt her hip, she’s alone and trying not to cry. Distracting herself half listening to the reception half watchingthe tennis paying neither any attention. 

A hyperchondriac she has a kidney shaped paper bowl beside her, we have already been here 30 minutes the bowl still remains empty. She is browsing nature blogs on her phone.

You, you are alone your foot swollen one shoe on one off, I suspect you are waiting to be picked up. You are calm on the outside….on the inside you are fearing your age.

I hate this place. 

It’s too hot.

My feet are hot and there are broken people everywhere.

Everywhere.

This is hell.
Karen Hayward ©2016