The cafe of many personalities opened its doors for business. By 4pm a number of patrons had shuffled and shifted, sipped and whispered, flaunted and fumbled – not uncommon for a Friday.
Walking towards the North Ward, she tried not to peer into patients rooms. A little privacy.
A little curiosity.
A sidewards glance.
She saw him lying by himself. He must have been at least ninety years old. Oddly, his mattress was on the floor. In those brief seconds, he lifted his hand upwards, reaching towards nothing, nothing at all. Nobody. As she walked forwards to Bed 14, her steps felt heavier and she wished she could turn back. What if?
These are my 12th and 13th posts in a month of writing #Nanowrimoprompts