Night Nurse
Eliza Walton

Those patients, they give themselves to driftage, wafting hour after hour. Pulled and released. An image, perhaps water. Add fear: as abstract as black. Then the body starts to work, all on its own, often without moving.
She casts a long triangle of hallway light into each room.
Eyes shivering beneath thin, elastic lids.

1996 © 2009