Fjordur #7 (Patreon)
Content
The linoleum was antiseptic blue shining like a threat. A coffee machine hisses. Whoosh of Nescafe and macaroons,sacred time of sweet daydream bites .
A lady with a dowager's hump was guided, forcefully, by a volunteer in a Fortnite t-shirt failing to cover his indulged belly.
A breezy nurse in brogues,50 denier legs, under a white coat with a selfish looking watch fob.
A window and a sun drenched patio. Two medics were flirting. A youthful giggle floats airily through the sober ward.
'Here Bridie. How are we?' says the patronising one. Bridie turns and punches her face.
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