home | | | | | |archive | | | | | |profile | | | | | |notes | | | | | |previous | | | | | |next


2008-04-08
patient ghosts


I hold my head and call the hospital late at night. A black telephone rings unanswered at an empty nursing station, fog drifting through the corridors. Elevator doors open and close, searching for patients or ghosts to be inhaled from one floor and exhaled onto another. Someone, a surgeon perhaps, practices the trombone in the stairwell.



previous | next