Quietus

I got off work early and arrived around midnight. The leaden sky was pregnant with snow, the cold air stinging my lungs. Uncle John had pulled strings with the nursing staff to extend visiting hours, since Grandma had always been a night owl.  I entered through the ER and made my way through the dim hallways, glancing through open doors at the shadowed figures recumbent in hospital beds amidst the low drone of electronics, waiting. Waiting to be released, waiting for the test results, for a second opinion.

When I saw  Grandma’s face I knew what she was waiting for.

 

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