‘Can I have a glass of water, please?’, the patient on the spotless white hospital bed, begs.
Having seated him upright against the impersonal white pillows, the lady holds the tall, nameless glass, carefully, for him to sip from.
‘Where is Sheila?’
‘Sheila is off-duty, today.’
‘You sound familiar.’
The lady pulls the red stool near his bed, takes his curled palm in hers and asks ‘ does your family visit ?’
‘I ask them not to visit, very often. Its unsettling to see someone close, suffer.’
The lady’s silent tears spill on the helpless bed.
‘How I wish I could ride around the park today! Is it bright and sunny?’
‘Luckily, it is’, she smiles.
The lady’s heart skips a beat, as the rusty wheels of his chair falters on the bump outside the main building of the hospital.
‘Are you all right?’, she asks steadying the anxiety and turmoil.
‘Yes, Shireen’, his smile, a ray of sun, tearing black clouds.
He remembered .
Word count- 162
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