The Putrid Place

by Sonia Pipkin

Moments before the sliding doors announced an arrival, the gravel beneath the war riddled shoes stung through the soles. After a couple of deep breaths and hopes that it would be a better night than it was before, she walked through the gates of a place worse than hell. She could not bear to lift her head just yet. She stared straight at the dried blood spot on her right shoe trying to remember which poor soul had bled on her last night. It was incredible the difference in noise level between a sliding door, and she could barely handle the raising tones that seemed to be attacking her ears. The smell of medicines, saline, bleeding, and, worst of all, death, all competed to be the one odor that she held on to. As she lifted her head, she saw the usual people running back and forth, not necessarily ignoring her but just too busy to even wave. She turned her head to the left and looked at this screen hanging on the wall and it seemed as though the names went on forever. She shook her head in tired disgust as she hurried to one of her sanctuaries in this putrid place. As she placed her bag down on the table in the break room and looked up at the television, she heard the footsteps getting closer. She always knew when the footsteps belonged to one of her soldiers because the squeaking of the soles to the waxed floor almost sounded sad. The door creaked open and her charge nurse just looked at her in the eyes and they both knew that it was time to start another 12 hour round with fate, evil, and inevitabilities in the emergency room.

Category: Fiction, Short Story, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU online creative writing, SNHU Student