Inspired by fellow writers: A reflection.
In the hospital. Several stories high. Early morning. Just me and a doctor. I alone walk toward the window.
I look down on early traffic. Cars, filled with drivers, maybe three on the road, yet nobody was moving. No traffic lights.
Doctor walks up. Says,
‘Good morning,’
I say, ‘Do you see those cars? They’re not moving.’
Just then, as the doc looks down, the cars all at once start driving again. Too cold a day for open windows and conversation in the streets.
He looks at me, as if to let me in on a secret.
Says, ‘Amazing world, isn’t it?’
And the way he said amazing was fragmented. In dissonance. As if to say ‘A mazing world.’
I stood there. Half alive at the time. Then carried on watering the plants. Watching the fog and cars, floors below.
Were they all asleep? Nothing was holding them. Or perhaps, something was.
Narrative Nonfiction