Stone

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Stone

Stone shook her hand in anger, it was useless, the buss driver would not stop and come back to pick her up, each one was in his private work hell, the buss driver was in his plastic shield hoping for another day without being attacked, what did he care that Stone was late for work, that it would be the third time this week, he did not know about Shaaron, did not have to know that Shaaron was vomiting and having temperature and that the Urgencies would take four hours just to give her some paracetamol.

Stone would pick up next buss, hoping that this would not be one of the big pick pocket Annual Meeting buss, that the ass pincher was not fulfilling his monthly quote, that she might even get a seating place, why not, some people were seated, why not her?

Stone would arrive at the Hospital late.

The idiot might be there, the idiot was that strange man looking at the sliding doors as if he had never seen sliding doors in his life, always hindering those who were in a hurry, what did he have to stand there like an idiot looking at doors, as eventually he would end up in the Ward.

The idiot, there must be something wrong with her, Stone laughed for herself, was there anybody in this White building who was not wrong in his head, what did you expect of people who had to clean shit all the day, smile at decaying smelly leftovers that would spit at you if you were not careful, well she did pinch them when making their beds, who cared?.

That idiot he would end up in the pantry, she just could not make it out, there were more than 200 rooms in the hospital, if he was so fond of roaming around why did he would have to come to the pantry just as they were having a cup of coffee, the cup they did not have in the morning, rushing the kids to school, checking that they had not forgotten their books, running back to the flat to pick up the mail check as it was the last day, they would be in the pantry, having that cup of coffee hoping it would be another day that would take care of itself, that none of the decays would try to strangle herself with a cake or a rubber ball, and the idiot would be standing there in pantry, looking at them as if they were some kind of snakes in some African Zoo he was visiting and asking the 10.000 dollar stupid question “how is she”, how is she, what did he expect, she was dying, she was taking a lot of time to die, that room was needed, it just was not fair that one should have so much work with the dying when there was so much to do with those who pretended they were alive.

Oh well, it would be another day and another day and they would ask her if she could do overtime and she would say yes because she needed the money and the Headmistress would call from the nursery and Stone would have to try and think out another story why she had not picked up the kids in time.

Stone got up, piled up all the morning towels on the chariot, went out in the corridor, bumped into the old lady in blue who was always telling her that she did not like her and that she did not like coffee and that she would tell her son, the idiot, her son, he had never been her in 2 years time.

In the late evening Stone would come back to her flat, hoping the landlord had not spiked an evacuation order on her door. She would try to open the door with her keys, she would push the bell again and again, she would call for Shaaron, then she would call for the Police, they would enter her flat, they would find that Shaaron had died 5 hours ago.

At her trial, when the tabloids were full of entire pages dedicated to the Black Hooded Angel of Mercy who, the prosecution claimed, had helped more than twenty patients to die, her barrister would claim that from the day she found Shaaron dead, Stone could neither carry the weight of the grief and the guilt, that while she was not legally demented, she surely was in hell, that it would be pointless to put a nurse already in hell in a prison. Stone would die during her trial. She left behind her two children who were handed over to the National Care.