Issue 7 – 55-Word Stories

Smile and knock — enter when permitted.
Shaky and washing my hands.
“What brings you in today?”

I worried…. despite her insistence that she was “just fine.” And now my heart aches with things unsaid. 

They come, in shifts— through side entrances, private doors…. most

wearing comfortable, expensive shoes, color-matched pants and tops

squeezing-in last minute family talk, world business…. on cell phones.

“What will it do, kill me?”  

Said a wearied coal miner 

Who caught me eyeing the tobacco smoke

medical student.

the pager beeps

it is a race to the trauma call.