Hospital Room

This week Write on Edge asked us to take them somewhere. Where it was was up to me -fiction or creative nonfiction- but they asked us to use our words to paint the setting as vividly as possible. In 200 words.

The children sit in the not-so-comfortable seats, their bright color standing out in the bleached whiteness of the room. 

Eyes stare at the glassy linoleum.

The patterned sounds of the machine,  breathing in and out for their mother.  Beyond the beeps of monitors and the hanging silence, all intermingle in the mood that chills the room.

Voices coming and go.
 Whisper.  

The view from the window reveals a court yard with small people,
moving, standing, and sitting.

Moving toward their mom, they reach over the silver bars, gently pull white sheets around her. Holding her small hand wrapped in black belts, and bandages.

Eyes are mesmerized by the lines and numbers moving on the screen, looking for sense, and finding no hope.

Across from the bed a table covered with wilting flowers and cards of get well wishes.

The teddy bear stares back with the same glazed over eyes.  

A cup sits dangling with a straw untouched. Beside it a pink plastic pitcher parked in position.

The routines of movement and changing shifts are all they can count on. The silence breaks and stories erupt, memories come forward--until the voices rock back to silence and waiting.

Author's Note: Not a pleasant memory, but a picture etched in my mind.